Say the Rest with No Sound
by FreakGleek
Summary: Brittany Pierce is used to being a loser at school, she was used to slushy facials, harsh words, and little friends. But one day, her path crosses with one of the most popular girls in school, and her eyes are opened to the fact that bad things are behind everyones closed doors.
1. Chapter 1

**AU: Hey, so this story has been kicking around in my head for a couple of days, and I really enjpy reading Nerd!Brittany or Santana, so I thought I'd give it a try. Read, Review, and I hope you like it! :)**

Schoolwork has never been an issue. She flew through all her classes, surprisingly. School itself on the other hand, was more of a problem.  
The McKinley student body obviously had a problem with people being different. She, being a bisexual and a super-nerd, was one of McKinley's number one losers- a constant target for slushy facials and harsh words.  
The nerds of McKinley respected each other enough to avoid one another in the hallways, so they wouldn't be even more prone to humiliation. They were friends behind the scenes, in comic book club, or Glee club- whatever. Just not in the halls, for the good of everyone. If they did pass each other, sure, they'd make polite eye contact and nod.  
"Hey, Loser!" Sneered one of her most common tormentors voices, before a cold and sticky kind of shame was running down her back and slipping into her eyes into her glasses. As always, the hallway was flitted with laughter, the loudest from the jocks and the Cheerios, some was just an awkward laughing, for they didn't want the popular kids to turn on them. Some people just stared in sympathy, but wouldn't be caught dead helping her- they had the same issue as those with the awkward giggles.  
She turned, face down, carefully sidestepping Quinn Fabray and some other Cheerios that had tagged along, and sniffed her way quietly into the nearest washroom. Over the past two years, she had become nearly immune to the sting the slushy brought- but not to the embarressment that splashed its way along.  
She wet down some paper towel, and sadly wiped off the purple from her face, and tried to get as much as she could out of her hair or off her clothes. Once she figured she'd wiped off as much as she could, she just looked at herself. Surely, she'd be repeating this at another point today, and it was getting tiring.  
Sniffing, she pushed up her glasses; four years ago today, she would never ever expect this to be happening. Four years ago today- which was some point in eighth grade- she was happily bouncing around in the halls of middle school with her best friend; Quinn Fabray. Some boys actually kind of liked her back then, too. They were nice to her, and would sometimes blush and get all stiff and awkward when she was around. Back then, she thought she was quite pretty; her long blonde hair, pretty blue eyes behind her glasses, skinny fit body and cute freckles on her nose and cheekbones. Back then, Brittany Pierce wasn't laughed at.  
But then, they went to highschool- they were scared little freshman that had both expierienced a slushy at some point or another; although it was obvious she got it more than Quinn did. Freshman year was a confusing year. When Cheerio tryouts started, Quinn was super excited; oh, how Quinn wanted to be a Cheerio so bad! She convinced Brittany to tryout with her; although Coach Sue seemed pretty impressed with Quinn's confidence and skill, nearly the moment she stepped into the gym for her tryout- being a self conscious nerd with glasses; she was laughed out of the room. While Quinn made it on the squad, she still made an effort to hangout with Brittany now and again on the weekends. That's when the really confusing stuff started; she started to feel little bursts of electricity whenever Quinn hugged her- it was the same feeling she got when boys she liked touched her or even talked to her. It was scary, but she tried to brush it aside. It would pass... hopefully.  
Well, it didn't. In fact, the more Quinn drifted away during the year, the worse it got. And after having a specific dream, and several day dreams, she eventually had to face reality; she was bi. It was her deepest and darkest secret; you can't be gay or bi in Lima, it just was not accepted.

She used to keep a diary, she wrote in it over freshman year, about her thoughts, her feelings. Eventually, she forgot about it though, it got swept somewhere under the bed, and it wasn't missed. Which is exactly why she never noticed it gone.

So, on the last day of school on freshman year- a couple of the Cheerios- mostly seniors- Quinn among them, marched up to her in the halls in the morning, and declared it to the heavens. They made it very clear they knew, and made sure everyone else in the hallway knew too. And then they shoved her old missing diary in her arms, before dumping three whole slushies on her head, and flocking away.  
It was mortifying. Especially Quinn's expression; a strong mix of disgust, betrayal, confusion, and maybe some sadness. Maybe it was just her head playing tricks on her.  
Then at the pep rally at the end of school, the jocks slushied the living hell out of her.  
Since then, she'd just embraced her inner nerd; at least that way she could join clubs and meet friends that didn't care what she was. Friends like Tina, Kurt, Sam and Artie. The nerd herd.  
Brittany was so swept up in her thoughts she almost missed the second period bell ringing. She hurried out of the bathroom, and made her way down to Mr. Schuesters Spanish classroom.

Mr. Schue was a bit of a mess nowadays, he was just going through a divorce. She wondered about the Glee kids, how they were doing; the club must be a bit of a mess too. She ought to ask Tina and Kurt about it.  
Spanish was her worst class; mostly because she just wasn't interested in learning another language, even though she definitely knew it was a necessary thing in almost any job she could want. Not that she was fully decided on that anyways.

Mr. Schue was rambling on about something, she wasn't listening. Not a lot of people were; it was obvious he'd had a drink or two at some point.  
Resting her head on her hand, she doodled her cat half heartedly on her notebook with her other hand. Which reminded her, she should really get Lord Tubbington on a diet...  
"Hey," She heard someone say, she blocked them out, because she already knew that if they believed she were eavesdropping, they'd make some kind of rude remark or maybe an extra slushy later. God, people are awful.  
"Hey!" They said a little more forcefully, and to her surprise she felt someone nudge her elbow. A little startled, she looked up to see who it was; after all, who would be talking to her?  
It was an even greater shock that the person talking to her was the Cheerio sitting in front of her. To add to that shock, it was one of the top Cheerios; and maybe the biggest bitch in this school; Santana Lopez.  
It felt like someone kicked her in the gut; oh Christ, this can't be good. She must've gotten bored and started to pick on her, and some jocks will silently join in pretty soon, hoping to get the Cheerio to laugh and hoping to look cooler. Or something stupid like that.  
"Can I borrow your eraser?" The Latina asked, pointing lazily to the used white blob of an eraser she had sitting on her desk.  
An eraser? That's a horrible excuse for a trick.  
She furrowed her brow in suspicion at the Cheerio; hopefully, Santana see's that she knows this is a stupid trick, and it'll just backfire at her- she's not _that_ dumb!  
Santana rolled her eyes and groaned quietly, "I don't fucking bite, just let me borrow your eraser!"

Hesitantly, Brittany picked up her eraser and dropped it in Santana's hand, who just muttered something in Spanish and turned around in her seat, eraser in hand.  
What the hell is this? This doesn't just happen! Cheerios don't just ask losers like her to borrow erasers! They go out of their way to not make any decent contact with them. Yet, Santana just did?!  
The Latina turned around again, and again, made a conscious effort to drop the eraser back in her hand, "_Thank you_!" She sounded exasperrated, but- what was that? A ghost of a smile played on the Latina's lips. A guilty smile. Alright, the jigs up- what happened? What's going on- what did you do?  
Santana turned around in her seat again, leaving Brittany staring at the eraser, inspecting it to make sure nothing happened. It wasn't wet like she spat on it, nothing was doodled on it- it was untouched.  
An emotion changed within her- almost a fuzzy, happy feeling. Almost. Her spirits were just a little perked that someone so popular kindly acknowledged her. Didn't even call her that stupid name some of the jocks made up _'Bi_ttany_' _It wasn't even a funny or clever name!  
Smiling a little at herself, she placed the eraser back on her desk- and went on as always through the rest of the class.

She back at unease by lunch. Lunch was when she got the majority of her slushies. It just added to her discomfort seeing Sam get slushied earlier at lunch.  
Brittany liked to walk home at lunch, considering it was safer there and she wouldn't have to pay for lunch. Plus, there was no painful reminder that you can't even talk to your friends at lunch because you were all such losers.  
She shrugged her hoodie over her head, it was raining pretty hard outside. But it was only a six minute walk; she'd walked it so much she knew the exact time it took. Now, if only she could sneak her way over to the doors without a slushy facial, it'll be a relatively good day. Of course, there was after school too. But that wasn't to be worried about now.  
"Afternoon, _Bi_ttany," The cool voice of Noah Puckerman greeted (Or as she and her friends liked to secretly call him; Pukerman)

"Puck, that isn't even a clever name," Another familiar voice sighed, "I don't understand why you jocks are so attached to it...?"  
She continued down the hall, hoping the two of them would maybe get in a bicker and forget about her,  
"Whatever!" Puck snapped, "That's not the point! The point is, I think we need to reinstate the daily slushy terror," You could almost hear the devilish grin in his voice.  
"You ready?" The girl giggled, and Brittany picked up her pace; she could maybe get out of here in time to run into the rain.  
"Ready, babe. Let's make some purple on this losers face!"  
And before she could get another two steps, Pucks stupid mohawked head was in her sight, tossing a blue slushy directly at her eyes, which made her somewhat happy she had glasses, followed by one Santana Lopez adding a red slushy at her face.  
So much for a possible turning tables, she thought bitterly as she wiped the mush out of her eyes and off her thick, a little too big glasses.  
She didn't even bother really cleaning herself off this time, she just walked home in the rain without her hood on, so nature could just wash her off.

**So what'd you guys think? Is it worth it? Should I continue?**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks for the feedback everybody! :) Hope you enjoy!**

Brittany was so everlastingly happy that Friday had finally drew to an end. This week had seemed to go on even longer than they usually did. But, it always felt like this on weeks where a big football game was coming up, the jocks were rowdier, and the Cheerios even more eager to please the boys they liked by slushying the nerds. Today for an example, she had gotten slushied four separate times. That was a lot, even for her.  
By the end of final block, she already felt so exhausted, but she also had comic book club with Tina, Sam and Artie. Basically they just talked about the new superhero movie coming out in November, and laughed about random stupid things. Usually it was enjoyable, but today she just wanted to go home, shower, and sleep.  
But, there seemed to always be something; October in Lima brought rain, and lots of it. A walk home in the rain, because non of her friends had a car. Well, Sam did, but it was a piece of crap in Burt Hummel's auto-shop.  
As the four of them packed their things at the end of comic book club, which Mrs. White had been kind enough to lend them the classroom every Tuesday, Wednesdy and Friday after school. In return for this kindness, they had sworn to clean her classroom everyday they were here, and they had never broken that promise.  
"You feeling alright? You don't look so good." Artie remarked, rolling up to her in his wheelchair as she was stuffing the old Spiderman comic books Sam had lent her carefully into her backpack.  
Pushing her glasses back up her nose, she replied, "Yeah. Just a bit tired. It's been a long week."  
Artie nodded, "Yeah, I got slushied three times today. That's a lot, even for me." He spookily echoed her past thought.  
"Four." She deadpanned, she wasn't in the mood for conversation, no matter what a good friend Artie was- Brittany just really did not want to talk to him right now. Like at all.  
Her friend in a wheelchair whistled, "Whoa, hardcore!"  
"Yup." She zipped up her bag, and tossed it over her shoulder, "Sorry, Artie, I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm not feeling well, so... Talk to you later, I guess..."  
Artie twisted his lips, and looked a little deflated, "Oh. Sorry, right, ok. See you around, then."  
"See you."  
Brittany left the halls of McKinley, and flipped up her hood against the rain, to her irritation, pushing up her glasses again. She did feel a little more tired lately, but it wasn't because she was losing sleep- it was because she was sick and tired with putting up the peoples shit. She wished things could change.  
She had the strangest daydream a couple days ago; she was just at home, and she couldn't focus on her homework- her mind kept wondering. Thinking about absurd things; like what if she were head Cheerio? Of course, it was a no-no, for multiple obvious reasons, but she just got to thinking; what if? How different would things be? At first she thought, easily, that she would make sure none of the other jocks or Cheerios picked on nerds. She'd stand up for the nerds. And then she thought; no, she wouldn't, because that would somehow get her into an even worse bullying situation than she was already in. And then Brittany was entirely taken aback by her own shallowness.  
That connected her to another thought; was she happy? The answer came just as freely; no. No she was not happy. Content? Hardly. She loved her friends, she really did, but she couldn't even show how much she appreciated them because of damn other people, that triple slushy them if more than one nerd are seen together at a time.  
Stupid. Stupid everything! After that, she had surprised herself yet again, by throwing a temper tantrum on her bed; screaming into pillows, thrashing around.  
God, she was hormonal lately. It must be nearing her time of the month.  
Sniffing against the cold, she cut through the field; there was a little path just outside the field that let her have those six minute walks. If she didn't take it, it was a nearly twenty minute walk.  
The road was pretty much empty, besides some not far away that shone through the haze of rain.  
Maybe this weekend she would try to rest up, rejuvinate- whatever it was called. She just wanted to feel fresher than she did now. She'd eat lots of fruit, and vegetables, rest up, drink water...  
"Don't get wet, Bi-Pierce!" Someone that sounded like Azimio shouted out of the car window, as they purposely swerved and drove through a big puddle on the side of the road, sending spray all over her.  
Bi-Pierce. Huh. Well, it had a better flow than _'Bittany'_...

Her room was a strange combination; partly, it was nerdy; you would think it belonged to a uber-nerdy boy her age. You know, when you thought of the kind of boy, he wore his pants too high, had buck teeth and braces, a nasaly voice, lots of acne and thick glasses? Part of her room looked like it belonged to a boy like him; it was Star Wars, and action figures, and posters of Spiderman and Batman and Thor. The other part, looked like it should be owned by a six year old girl; pink, unicorns, and rainbows. It didn't go together, but she'd seen it so much it kind of did by now.  
"Brittany?" Of course. Not a moment of peace. Brittany turned to the sound of her name, and saw Joel, her little brother, standing in her doorway.  
"Yeah, what's up little buddy?" Joel wasn't actually her brother. Well, not fully at least. Brittany's real mom and dad didn't get along well, and when she was only seven they got a divorce. Her mom had met Garrett pretty quickly though, and the two got along incredibly. Two years after the divorce; pop! Out comes baby Joel. All her friends told her she and Joel looked a lot alike; although she couldn't see it- and she's looked! Actually, she's looked extensively, and the only similarity she could see between herself and Joel, was their nose and some personality quirks.  
"Uhm... I was wondering, if maybe... Could you take me to go see a movie at the theatre?" Inwardly, she cringed, and maybe died a little. She really wasn't up for a movie with her little brother tonight. But she really wasn't up to saying no.  
"Uhh... sure! What movie did you want to see?" Joel beamed, and replied, "I wanted to go see one called Adventures of Tin Tin!"  
Brittany gave her little brother a light noogie on the head, "Alright, bud- we can go see the Adventures of Tin Tin. Just let me shower first alright? We'll leave in an hour."

Joel bounced around, and took off down the hall shouting; "Ok! Thank you!"  
"Ok! Did you ask mom already?"  
"Yes! She said its ok if you said yes!"

After her long needed shower, she hadn't even bothered dressing up very nicely. She just put all her hair in a bun on top of her head, hid the few pimples she had under a thin layer of coverup, and wore some sweatpants and a batman shirt.  
She drove an ecastatic Joel to the movie theatre at about four thirty, because the closest movie showing was five o'five. They had bought their tickets successfully, and now they were standing in the lineup for food, where Brittany was trying to decide on which combination would be the most effective; the kids- where they could get a medium popcorn two small drinks and a candy, or the Friday night combo; because, well, it was Friday- so they would get a deal.  
With a reminder that she had no job when she saw a fellow McKinley high student at the counter, she decided firmly that the Friday night combo would be best, due to her funds.  
"Oh. My. God." Joel squeaked.  
"What? What is it?" She asked, leaning in closer to the quiet eight year old.  
Joel bounced, suddenly he looked stressed as he pointed at a little girl a couple rows away, "There's Marie, the girl I like! Oh no, Brittany- she's here, what if she see's me? What do I say to her? I can't even barely talk when I'm around her!"  
It took everything in her not to giggle, because she knew Joel would take it personally.  
"Ok," She said slowly, pulling his finger down from the point, "First of all; don't point. Second, why don't you just ask her what movie she's seeing?"  
Joel stared at her incredulously; "Sure, why don't I ask her about the weather while I'm at it?"  
"Hey! How is asking her what she's seeing so bad?"  
"I don't know- shouldn't I tell her a story to impress her?" Joel inquired unsurely, as he nervously glanced Marie's way again.  
"Whoa, buddy, you got it all wrong," She shuffled forward in the lineup, "Girls don't always want to hear about you. Sure, sometimes they like to, but try to focus more on her, alright? Ask her about what _she_ likes and what _she's _doing."  
"Really?" Joel asked, Brittany nodded, "Really."  
"Oh. I didn't know..."  
"I know you didn't, which is why I told you!" She grinned and gave his soft chestnut hair a ruffle, "And if she's seeing Tin Tin too, you could ask her if she would like to sit with us."  
Joel nodded, but still looked a little intimidated. Gosh, there was one of their shared traits; sure, she may seem collected and cool while giving advice, but she got restless around her crush too.  
Brittany ordered the Friday combo, and after the girl at the counter gave it to her and she paid, she held the tray and started directing Joel in Marie's direction. The little girl was wearing an adorable red dress as she waited for her parents in the lineup beside the little counter/table thing that had brochures and straws and random things assorted along it.  
Joel seemed cutely terrified. But Brittany was going to give him a little push of encouragement, she didn't want her little bro to have the unfortunance of being as socially awkward as she was when he got older.  
Gently, she gave her little brother a tiny push of encouragement towards the girl, as he had become rooted to the spot. She almost thought she could hear him gulp as he took a couple of small, shy steps toward Marie. Curious, she made an effort to eavesdrop- what? She wanted to see how this exchange would play out.  
"Hi, Marie." Her brother greeted quietly. It was obvious his already high voice rose a couple of octaves.  
"Hi, Joel!" The girl sounded much more perky.  
"Hi. So... uhm... what are you watching?" Joel fiddled his feet, scuffing them along the ground.  
"Oh, I'm going to go see Tin Tin!"

"Really?" Joel sounded like he had just fallen into some kind of heaven, "Oh, me too! Do you want to sit with us? You can..."  
"With your mom and dad?" The girl asked.  
"No, I'm here with my big sister." Joel replied, he seemed a little less stiff than he had at the beginning of the conversation. Good.  
"Cool!" Marie exclaimed, "Me too!"  
Brittany could tell she paled. Did she know Marie's big sister?  
"I didn't know you had a sister!" Joel smiled, "My sister's name is Brittany, she's over there!" Joel pointed at Brittany a couple of steps away. Marie turned her head and gave her a curious look, but she was smiling.  
"My big sister is over there!" Marie pointed into the crowd. Frantically, Brittany strained to see who the girl was pointing at, but due to the angle she was at, she couldn't see who the little girl was pointing at.  
"Cool! Do you guys want to sit with us?" She was seriously regretting telling Joel to ask Marie that. Truthfully, she just expected to see the little girl here with her mother.  
"Ok! If my sister says its ok!" If she weren't holding this tray of food, she would facepalm herself.

"Ok! Brittany!" Joel turned his attention to her, he trotted over, "Marie says that she has to ask her sister first."  
"That's alright. Come on, let's go give our ticket to the guy so we can get into the theatre," She gestured for her brother to follow, but he looked confused, "Shouldn't we wait for Marie to ask her sister first? So we can all get a seat together?"  
She should have known Joel wouldn't be so stupid, of course he'd know this. How did she even think that the two of them could sneak away?  
Brittany opened her mouth to reply, but a Marie running over excitedly inerrupted her; "She said yes!"  
"Cool!" Joel sounded stressed again, like he didn't expect a yes. Either that or he was lost for words again.  
"Marie, Jesus stop bouncing around, I can't keep up with you!" Someone huffed, Brittany had been so busy looking down at the two little kids that she didn't even notice Marie's older sister approach. And it was much to her horror when she did see who her older sister was; Santana Lopez. Of course, another one of her biggest tormentors were Marie's sister. Right. Fabulous. How did she not notice it before? The two of them did look quite alike! The only thing was Marie's skin wasn't as dark as Santana's, and Marie's nose was firmer and straighter. Either than that, they were the almost spitting image of each other.  
"Oh. Hi." Santana said, furrowing her brow as she looked at Brittany, making her feel self conscious.  
"Hi." Was Santana just going to change her mind and deny her sister to sit with Joel because he was her brother? And just because she didn't want to sit through an entire movie with her? Oh God, they sold slushies here. Would Santana slushy her publicly?  
"So, you two are seeing Tin Tin too?" The Latina asked unsurely, like she didn't know how to act when not at school. Hah, what a joke; Santana Lopez not being a bitch?  
"Yeah, yeah he was bugging me about taking him, so..." She trailed off, nodding. Santana nodded a little too, and pointed at her sister, "Yeah, so was this one."

"Ok. So. Should we get seats?" Brittany asked; the sooner they could get this over with, the better.  
Santana nodded, "Yeah."

Brittany squirmed in her seat. It was about twenty minutes into the movie, and she hadn't really paid attention since it started. Marie had insisted to Santana that she just wanted to sit by Joel, and didn't want her sister hanging over her the whole time, it meant Santana had no other choice then to sit beside Brittany. She felt awkward.  
Although she kept a conscious effort to remain relaxed looking; she felt tense, and in all honesty she was scared. It wasn't unknown for Santana to undermine and spread rumors about people for her own amusement. In fact, her rumor was actually right when she said Kurt was gay. And because she was so tense with worry and fear, she didn't want Santana to think she had a crush on her or anything, with the way she was acting.  
"Hey," Santana whispered to her, "I need to go to the bathroom, and it's awkward going alone- come with?" She asked, and Brittany almost sputtered; what the hell?  
"Uhm, no, I better stay with the kids."  
"My sister knows how to use pepper spray," The Latina remarked without emotion, "I always make her carry some. Come on, I have to pee."  
Santana's eight year old sister knows how to use pepper spray? That's a little worrying.  
Brittany could almost hear Santana roll her eyes as she went on, "Please? It'll take two minutes, I just don't want to go into those big public washrooms alone, it's uncomfortable. The kids'll be fine."  
Santana was being a baby, but she didn't have the energy to argue, because she believed that Marie actually had-  
"Hey, DoDo," Santana leaned across her lap to tap her sister, who was on the other side of Joel. Shocked, Brittany raised her hands up to her chest, fearing that if she even just touched the Latina by accident she'd be scolded and pay for it later. "Marie, you have your pepper spray, right?" Santana asked, in the gloom of the thatre, she saw the little girl nod.  
"Ok. Good, me and Brittany are going to go to the bathroom- we'll be quick though, alright? Just remember what I taught you, got it?"  
"Got it."  
"Good." Santana rose from her seat, Brittany reluctantly followed. The two walked in silence all the way upstairs, where the big public bathrooms were located, the bathroom had about twenty five stalls. There were a couple of random women in the bathroom, chatting quietly at the sinks, or waiting for their friends in the stall, like she was, and of course there were a couple people in the stalls. Santana was right; it _would_ be awkward to come alone, considering nobody else was.  
As Santana entered one of the stalls, she leaned against the wall near the sinks, mentally willing Santana to hurry up. Although, it still confused the living God out of the fact the Cheerio was being so... nice. Shouldn't Santana be being a bitch? Throwing slushies publicly and calling her Bi-Pierce or something? Like, what if another Cheerio saw the two of them... conversing? Maybe even another completely unimportant McKinley student could spread the news, making trouble for the both of them! There was that kid at the counter... He went to McKinley...  
The stall Santana entered opened, and she walked over to the sinks, and raised her arms above her head so the jangly bracelets she wore wouldn't get wet. They were actually cute bracelets-  
There. On Santana's arm, what is that? She only saw it for a split second, but she was positive she had seen it. Five or six faded, but still a little pink and puffy, lines. Too perfect and straight to be from a cat or any kind of animal, on the inside of her upper arm, almost close to her armpit. Were they actually there, or had she just imagined it? Brittany tried to peer casually, but couldn't see anything. Brittany took off her glasses and cleaned them non chalantly on her shirt, then put them back on, but it didn't make a difference.

Santana dried her hands on some paper towel, "Ok," The Latina sighed. Oh God, she didn't notice her looking, did she? "Let's get back to that awful movie."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hey! Thanks for the reviews everyone! :) I know, this is a short chapter, but, the next one is longer, I promise!**

Five or six possibly imaginary marks never shook her so much. Brittany lay in bed that night; Santana and Marie left almost immediately after the movie was over. The older Latina didn't say a word, and Marie just said a hasty 'thank you' and 'goodbye' as her older sister practically pulled her out of the theatre.  
She couldn't stop wondering about the marks, were they actually there? And why would a girl like Santana Lopez have them? Why would she do that? But mostly, she wondered if they were there. Her head could have been playing tricks on her... She_ was _tired...  
Brittany rolled over in her bed, burrowing her face in a pillow; she was getting way too overworked about this. They were probably not even there. Even if they were, why should she care? Santana had never given two fucks about her, so why shouldn't she do the same?  
Yeah... but why?  
Ugh!  
She hugged her pillow, mad at herself for worrying so much, as it was keeping her awake; and she really wanted to sleep.  
Knowing it would continue like this if she didn't distract herself, groggily, she rose from bed, turned on her lamp and grabbed her glasses- and then put a movie on the TV in her bedroom. She chose something calming, and cute; Valentines Day, and she was out like a light.

The weekend rolled by like all the other weekends did; nothing else particularily interesting happened. Artie dropped by, and they played a bit of a Halo marathon, but that was it. She still hadn't managed to completely shake her wonder with Santana's possible scratches, but she had started to brush it off; she just kept on repeating to herself that she shouldn't care.  
It was the first day in a week that it hadn't rained, thankfully, she was getting tired of walking to and from school in the rain, and this Monday would be a hopeful break from that.  
Brittany stood in front of the bathroom mirror, giving her hair another quick brush before she left, and she was growing ever more frustrated because her mane wasn't cooperating today. In the past, on days like this; she'd just put her hair up in a ponytail. But one day last year, when she wore her hair up, Quinn had grabbed at it and snarled at her to quit trying to look like a Cheerio. So she had avoided the ponytail since. Finally coming to the unhappy conclusion that this was as good as her hair was going to get today, she groaned and left the bathroom.

She made it to first period without a slushy attack, surprisingly. Early morning slushies were one of the most common times to get one.  
Sam slid into the seat next to her, after all, first period advanced chemistry was a generally safe class; considering most of the Cheerios and Jocks were too dumb to make it into the class.  
"Hey," The blonde boy greeted, pushing up her glasses she smiled at her friend, "Hi. What's the occasion? You made a trip all the way across the classroom." The boy did his lopsided smile, "Nothing really. Just bored."  
"I see," She kept up the friendly banter, but also made sure she looked like she was also getting work done while chatting, or else Mr. Thomas would send Sam back to his seat.  
"Hey, did you hear how many people are flunking Mrs. Gramm's class?"  
"No?" She asked curiously, Mrs. Gramm's fourth period math class wasn't anything big for them, so why would Sam bring it up?  
"Well. Most of the people flunking are Cheerios, and a couple of Jocks."  
"Not surprising." She muttered.  
"You don't get it," Sam said with an urgent excitement, "There are so many Cheerios flunking, Figgins is thinking about suspending Cheerios practices until they're all passing!" No Cheerios? This may just be the best day in the history of everything.  
"The hierachy will fall! Without Cheerios, the Jocks will be a little lost too!"  
"God..." She murmured. This day just got better and better! "Coach Sue is going to have an aneurism." She added with a giggle. The blonde boy laughed too, "Awesome! Do you think she'll pass out and seizure?"  
"Sam..." She sighed, "You do realize I just meant she was going to flip, right?"  
"Oh."  
"Yeah. Anyways- what do you think that means for u-" She started, but was cut off by their bald teacher scolding, "Evans! Back to your seat, sir!"  
"Yes, sir!" Sam replied, hoping out of the seat and retreating back to his own.  
Huh, Brittany thought as she looked down at the notes she had copied from the board; how _would_ the student body change without Cheerios? It would be much easier for nerds to get back at them... and most of them would be such an emotional wreck without those practices that they'd be so confused anyways. She remembered the day where Mr. Schue retaliated against Sue, and the cheerleading coach got so depressed there were three days without Cheerios practice, and the girls all went so delirious. Sobbing uncontrollably, and depressed because they thought they had fallen to the level of nerds. In fact, because they thought that, the Jocks picked on the nerds less, because A) they were so confused themselves, and B) when Rick the Stick slushied Tina, some of the Cheerios went so hysterical because they thought they were next; there was so much screaming, and hitting and fights, that the Jocks didn't dare slushy anyone, rather than face the wrath of mentally damaged teenage girls. Yes... those were possibly the best three days of her life. And she knew some of the Cheerios were as dumb as a sack of moldy potatoes, and knowing Figgins, he wouldn't reinstate practice until they were all at a passing level- hell, it could take as good as a month for some of them to wrap their head around even a concept of algebra. Hah, the nerds could be ruling this place, maybe after Quinn Fabray gets a couple of slushies she'll realize how crappy it felt to be at the bottom of the latter. To even know the embarrassment and judgment she felt. She was giddy at the very thought!  
First period melted into second period, and on her way to Mr. Schue's class, she cringed and crossed to the opposite side of the hall when she saw Quinn and Santana talking with their heads close together. Whispering.  
Santana spotted her and froze mid-sentence, narrowing her eyes at Brittany; Quinn obviously noticed, and glanced back to see what her friend was glowering at; and then followed suit. Lovely, they must have been talking about her. No, no- _planning _was the more accurate word.  
She picked up her pace.

She was whole-heartedly surprised by the fact that it was lunch, and she still hadn't gotten a slushy. Maybe the Cheerios were smart enough not to get up in the nerds space, because they realized that once they fall down the latter, some of the nerds will want revenge? Huh. So they _did_ have a brain...  
"Hey, Bi-Pierce," Or maybe not.  
Wincing, she slowly closed her locker and prepared for the cold impact...  
"My hands are empty!" Santana snapped. Reluctantly, she opened one eye, and saw no slushies in the Cheerios hands. A little bit more at ease, she opened her other eye, and pushed up her glasses.  
The Latina rolled her eyes, "Jesus, you nerds all think we're just here to slushy you." She complained. Oh. My. God. Was she serious?  
"Because that's all you ever do!" She retorted. Santana raised her eyebrows and cocked her head slightly to the side; the Queen Bitch look. Shit. Why would she talk back?  
"Well, well..." The Latina smirked. Crap! Crap crap crap crap! Brittany what did you just do to yourself? "Looks like some of you nerds to have a rebellious bone in you." Santana almost smiled. Almost.  
"Uhmm..." She croaked; how can she fix this? Hell, there probably was no fixing this.  
"Anyways, loser, let's crack to buisness, shall we?" Santana said as she took a step forward. Brittany took a step back.  
"Now, math is a tough subject for me. That algebra shit makes absolute no sense, and I'm flunking that class. Nod with me, you understand right?" Santana took another step forward, Brittany nodded frantically, taking another step back.  
"Coach Sue can't have Cheerios flunking, otherwise practice will be shut can't have that. So," Step forward. Step back, "_You_ are going to tutor me."  
"What?" She squeaked, taking another step back as Santana took yet another step towards her. The Latina nodded, "Yup. _You_, are going to tutor me in algebra so _my_ sweet ass doesn't get kicked off the Cheerios."  
"Why me though?" She asked, pushing up her glasses again.  
"Well, Baby Face; Gramm tells me you're one of the highest in that class. _The_ highest. And I want you to be my tutor before anyone else. Come on, it won't be so bad; at least I'm not as stupid as a bag of hammers. You _could_ be stuck with worse. Which is another reason you will be my tutor. Are we clear?"  
Tutor. She didn't want to tutor anyone... let alone Santana! But the Latina did have a point, she could be stuck with worse. She knew that Santana was smart; and algebra did fly over the head of some people. But still... it was Santana. Major bitch Santana-more-like-Satan-Lopez.  
_But_, said a voice in the back of her head; _Remember how nice and normal she seemed at the theatre? _  
That voice did have a point. Santana did seem normal at the theatre. Maybe it was because her little sister was there. Or maybe it was because she wasn't at school...  
"Fine." She muttered. Saying 'no' didn't even seem like an option anyways.  
The Latina smiled, satisfied with herself, surely.  
"Great. We'll talk more later." And with that, the Cheerio stalked back down the hallway, leaving a confused Brittany standing alone near her locker. _  
_


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Hey everyone! Ok... so, as far as formatting, I've been getting people suggesting line breaks. On my old computer, this just happened naturally in my writer. On my new computer, I have WordPad. _WordPad_. _Crappiest writer ever_! So, I tried this kind of formatting, let me know if you find it easier or not to read! **

"Wait," Kurt held up his hand dramatically, "You have to tutor Santana Lopez? She's going to eat you alive, Britt. The girl put the 'itch' in 'bitch."

"Yeah, Britt, I think you should backout while you can." Tina agreed. The two had stopped over that night after their usual Monday Glee practice.  
She twisted her lips, "Yeah. I wish I could Tina, but I mean... it has its perks..."

"Like?" Kurt raised his eyebrows.

"Well... it'll get me some extra credit. But anyway Tina; I can't back out- you should have seen it. She was totally all up in my face, making sure I would tutor her."  
Tina looked to the floor, nodding. Kurt, however, was a little more persistant; "You don't need extra credit, Britt! Just go tell Mrs. Gramm that you aren't up for tutoring anyone."

Brittany bit her lip, "I just don-"

"You're not doing so great in Spanish, right?" Tina blurted, "You said something about it last comic book club, didn't you?" The Asian girl shrugged, "Maybe you could ask her? Make it a double deal? You tutor her in algebra, and she could help you in Spanish...?"  
It was a decent idea. And she would go for it if she wasn't tutoring a Cheerio, "Nahh..." She turned down the suggestion, "I'm just going to try to survive as it is. It's a good idea though. We'll see... maybe she's not so bad alone?" Her thoughts absently returned to the movie theatre.

"Yeah, and a rattle snake wouldn't be so bad if it got it's venom extracted. But it could still bite." Kurt pointed out.

"Valid point..." Arguing with Kurt was always pointless. Agreeing with him was the easiest solution for getting him to shut up. That's why whenever Kurt and Rachel disagree, its Battle Royale. It was her own personal hypothesis that if the two ever got in a really big squabble, some kind of giant void-like black hole would open up and Earth as we know it would be destroyed.  
Or at least it was fun to think.  
"So you're going to back out?" Tina asked, causing Brittany to groan; "I don't know! I want to! But think about this; if I do, Santana will surely be even more likely to murder me, won't she! I think so! So I'm going to go, see how it is, and get over with as quick as I can! I don't care if I only push her up to a C, it'll be a 'rip-it-off-fast-like-a-Band-Aid thing! Ok?" She was so frazzled with the two of them; and had gotten so into her almost yelling spree, that her glasses nearly slipped right off her nose. Irritated, she shoved them back up a little violently.

"Ever think about seeing contacts?" Kurt inquired after a moments thought, "You're eyes are beautiful, and you're always pushing up those glasses."  
Further frazzled, she threw her hands up into the air, "I don't know, Kurt! They irritate me!"  
"More than always shoving up those glasses?"

"Yes!"

"Sorry, sorry."

"It's ok, Kurt." She sighed, "I didn't mean to snap at you, sorry. It's just almost... y'know..."

"Alright, Britt," Kurt fixed his hair with theatrical drama, "I don't need to know about your monthly affairs with Mother Nature."

"Right. Sorry,"

Just at that moment, she heard stomping up the stairs; her first thought was Joel had hurt himself downstairs, but it took her a moment to register that the stomping was too heavy to be her little brother. God... Her mom only stomped up the stairs like that if she was really pissed about something. Crap, what happened now?  
She almost cringed when she saw the figure burst through her doors;  
And she was pleasently surprised when she saw Sam Evans panting, his blonde hair ruffled from the wind. He had obviously ran here. Not from his house, right? Sam lived a half an hour away? Where had he... Oh! Right! She forgot on Mondays his parents made their whole family eat dinner at his Grandmother's, who lived right next to the school. Well, right across the road.  
"Sam!" She exclaimed, "What're you...?"  
The boy held his hand up, gesturing '1 Moment' as he continued to catch his breath. Wow, he must really have been sprinting. Tina patted the spot on the bed between her and Kurt (Brittany had chosen to sit at her desk chair), Sam nodded and nearly collapsed on the bed.  
"Should we be concerned?" Kurt asked no one in particular, Sam just shook his head.  
"Alright," The boy breathed once he had caught his breath. Sam sat up again, "So, you know how I go to my Granny's every Monday?"  
There were nods all around the room.  
"Ok, good. Well, she's really old so she eats food really early. Ok, so after dinner my parents and my little brother and sister were all visisting, and well, I was just wondering her house- and the kitchen window was open. So, you can usually hear the practices and stuff over in the field; but I heard Coach Sue- lose it! I ran over there, and I hid behind the bleachers to see what was happening; and Figgins was out in the field. He must've told Coach Sue about suspending the practices, because she looked like you had just woken that thing from the Exorcist. Seriously! I was expecting her head to start spinning around! And the Cheerios lost it too! There was crying, and screaming and-" Sam broke off, grinning from ear to ear, "And it's like the empire has already started falling."  
She smiled. She didn't even know if it was a fake smile or not. Yes, it was more than fabulous that those Cheerios had gotten what was coming to them, but, her thoughts about Santana were the more gruelling. Would tutoring her be ten times as bad now that she was grumpy and off the squad? As if on cue, Sam started speaking again, "And you should have seen Santana Lopez! She was screaming at Figgins in Spanish, a couple of the Cheerios had to hold her back and drag her away! It was awesome!"

"So..." Tina drawled, "There is officially no Cheerios? Does that mean no slushies?"

"Maybe." Kurt looked as though he were considering the outcome as well, "Definitely less."

"Well, Tina remember last time?" Sam was beaming, "Remember how Rick the Stick slushied you, and then that Cheerio Lucy flipped and pretty much started a riot?"  
Everyone nodded and giggled a little, the blonde boy was still grinning like the Cheshire Cat as he added, "I think we'll be fine. I don't think the jocks are that dumb to forget all the ex-cheerleader horror."

While Brittany walked to school that morning, she was tempted to let her guards down. After all, it would feel a lot more satisfactory if she didn't get slushied, and she wasn't still nervously peeking around corners or wincing everytime she saw a slushy cup. Which shouldn't be often.  
But then again, how easy would it be to let her guard down after two years of having her guard so far up it almost touched the ceiling?  
She was anxious as she pushed the doors open to the school- and the lack of red cheerleading outfits she saw was the most peaceful feeling one could ask for. It felt like a war that had been fighting secretly in the hallways was put on a halt, and was replaced by sobbing depressed girls, girls that looked awkwardly out of place, or girls that just looked purely like zombies, as they somewhat hobbled down the hall with a vacant look in their eye and their hair unbrushed. Of course, there seemed to be a few wearing a brave face, but mostly they were sobbing.

First period was... interesting. First period cooking class was perhaps the class she shared with the most Cheerios. Strange, that it had also always been the class that put her at the most ease. No one hardly ever called her names, or giggled, or shoved into her 'by accident'.  
Today, however, was very colourful in terms of events. One of the ex-Cheerios had nearly collapsed she was sobbing so hard while they were baking their fudge brownie cookies. She had to be escorted down to the office where her parents had to pick her up because she was so hysteric. And then one of the jocks made a joke that went something like "Just wait until she gets her first face full of slush."  
That joke had resulted in another one of the broken girls to lash out across the table and attempt to claw his eyes out. She was also escorted to the office.  
And thirdly, one of the other girls had slid into the seat next to her, and sobbed something about how sorry she was that she had to live in this fear everyday. The girl sobbed on and on, but Brittany couldn't understand what she was saying. In all honesty, she was trying her hardest not to laugh awkwardly, these girls were ticking time bombs, and she was a little frightened that even giggling would send another into murderous rage.  
Brittany wasn't sure whether or not the bell ringing as to signal first period has ended, as a relief or a unfortunance. The students shuffled out of the classroom, and she made her way to her locker. The halls didn't have the amount of chatter they usually did, somewhere, you could hear a slightly insane Cheerio screaming at someone for something. She didn't even bother looking around to see if she could find the scene, it was guaranteed that she'd witness such a event at some other point.  
She made her way into the Spanish room; the first thing she noticed, was a pleased looking Mr. Schue, his whole aura had changed. He must be making his comeback.  
She felt a pang of unhappiness at the fact that now the teacher had bounced back from his funk, she'd have to try a little harder. Although she did feel happy for the aging teacher.  
Santana slipped into the seat in front of her just as the bell rung. She wondered how the Latina girl was doing? Sam said she had lost it when Figgins announced it... Was she better now?  
Like Santana could read her mind, the girl started turning around, and Brittany fumbled desperately to open up her binder and find the assignment they worked on last class, so Santana didn't see her staring. It worked.  
"Bi-Pierce!" Santana hissed.  
Sighing, she looked up, "Yes?"  
"Remember our chat about algebra?" The Latina asked, mock sweetness. Brittany nodded.

"Well, since Figgins cut the damn Cheerios- and that just will not do," Santana said bitterly, "You gots to help me get back on- and soon. Alright? Nod."  
She nodded.  
"Good. So, you're going to help me every damn day until I know those fucking symbols like the back of my hand, got it? Nod."  
She deflated, "Every day?" She tried not to whine.  
The Latina furrowed her brow, looking bitchier than ever, "Did I stutter?" She snapped.  
"N-No," This time she stuttered, "You sure you want to spend every day with me? I'm sure that's not exactly your ideal Friday." Brittany tried to reason. But in all honesty, that was exactly how she felt; she didn't want to spend everyday with Santana, and most certainly not her Fridays.  
The other girls expression softened the slightest bit as she considered what Brittany had suggested. But it hardened again almost as quickly as it has softened.  
"Fine. You have a point. Everyday accept Mondays and Fridays. And weekends, obviously."  
Brittany nodded vigorously, "Ok. Got it. Wait... Does that include today?"  
"Yes. After school, at the library. We clear, Bi-Pierce?"  
Once again, she nodded.

"I have to tutor her for the first time today after school." She mumbled to Sam, as the two of them made their way down the hallway. Not a slushy was in sight today, so it was safe for the two of them to proceed the halls together.  
"Wait," The boy held up his hand, "What about Comic Book Club? The new Dead Sight comic is out today!"  
She shrugged, "I don't really have a say, Sam."  
The boy looked a little dismayed, "It'll be the first time..."  
"I know it will be the first time!" She barked. God, everyone was so picky! She can't be everywhere at once! She had to tutor Santana today, that was that. She can't backout, she can't go to Comic Book Club- she was just trying to get this over with quickly!  
"Sorry..." Sam grumbled, "You don't need to get snappy, you know."  
Brittany clenched her fists quickly, "Well, it's kind of hard not to, when you're just trying to get this over and done with, but all your friends are being annoying and whiney about it." She remarked through gritted teeth.  
Sam looked at her for a moment, like he wanted to argue. However, he wisely kept his mouth shut and went on with walking in silence.

On Tuesdays, she had free period instead of algebra; but she spent it going over her algebra notes, deciding on what would be the easiest thing to teach Santana first.  
Brittany was a little surprised when the bell rung; time really flew in free block. She didn't even bother going back to her locker, she just left directly for the library, algebra binder tucked under her arm.  
Heavily, she plopped down in one of the chairs at an empty table with a huff, pushing up her glasses. And then she waited.  
And waited.  
And waited.  
Irritated, she checked the clock to see the time; 3:46.  
She had been waiting for forty five minutes. More or less.  
That made her blood boil, Santana didn't even bother showing up, after she told Brittany to come.  
"What a bitch." She muttered to herself; it was true. Santana was a bitch. And she was stuck with her. Huh, not for long; she will back out, no matter what she says. This is completely ridiculous!  
"I hope you don't mean me." Santana said sarcastically; she seemed to take form out of thin air and slide across from her into a chair on the other side of the table.

"Where have you been?" She hissed, completely annoyed with the Latina- who just shrugged, "I didn't say a time, did I? You only assumed that I meant right after school."

"You said; 'after school at the library'!" She yelled as loud as she dared in a library. Which was really just a loud whisper type yell.

"Calm yourself, Blondie. I'm here now." Santana rolled her eyes, "Regretfully." She added.

"I've been waiting for forty five minutes!"

"Don't exagerate, it's only been forty three." The Latina deadpanned.  
Brittany threw her hands up in the air, defeated, "You're so exhausting."  
"I know I am. Are we going to start yet, I want this to be over already."

"That makes two of us." She muttered as she pushed up her glasses, and opened her binder, pulling out a sheet of notes.

"Ok... Do you understand the terms? Like variable, coefficient...?" She inquired. Lazily, Santana rested her head on one of her hands, "The only thing I understand, Bi-Pierce, is that algebra is fucking pointless."  
"Agreed," Brittany said quickly, "But, you need to know it to pass. So I take that as a no?"

"No."

"No?"

"No, I don't understand terms." Santana sounded like she was running out of patience. Well, Brittany was too, so this would surely be interesting.

"Ok, well," Brittany flipped over the piece of paper, clicked her pen, and wrote down a simple equation, "Take a look at this," She slid the paper over to Santana. The ex-Cheerio stared down at it with uninterest.  
Brittany rolled over a couple of highlighters toward the Latina, "I'm going to explain what each term is, and I want you to highlight it. Each in a different color."  
"What am I? Four?" Santana rebuttled, but Brittany ignored it.  
"A variable; a variable is something we don't know. That's what we're trying to find out. So, the letters."  
Sighing dramatically, Santana uncapped the blue highlighter and properly highlighted the variables in the equation, "Bi-Pierce," She muttered, "A six year old could do this."  
"You just said you didn't get it." She stated dryly, her patience thinning out even more.

"I just said that." Santana grinned in amusement.

"So you do get it?"

"No, I'm just fucking with you." Deep breaths, Brittany, deep breaths.

"Ok..." She drawled out, "So I'll move on then. A coeffiecient is a number that's right before a variable. Not separated by an addition sign or anything- it's just right there."  
Now it was the yellow highlighter.  
"Good. A constant is a number that's all by itself. Try that."  
And the pink.  
"Ok, you got the basics."  
"This is like, grade eight algebra." Santana complained. Her patience, which was still running out, was the cause of her next words, "If it's so easy, solve it."  
Santana muttered something, and pulled a pencil out of her binder. She stared down at the multi-highlighted equation, and Brittany could tell she was striving for an answer. Brittany knew she didn't even know where to start.  
Carefully, she timed two minutes on the clock, and Santana still hadn't even began answering the question. That made Brittany feel superior; for once, she was above Santana Lopez.  
"You don't even know where to start, do you?" She whispered to Santana smugly. She didn't even know why she wanted to push the girls buttons so bad. Maybe it was because Santana had been pushing hers.  
The other girl huffed and dropped the pencil. Santana leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest and she was giving her a bitch glare. But she was faltering.  
"I thought so." Brittany mirrored the Latinas actions, "I would kind of like to lay some ground rules then; you don't complain, and it'll make things go a lot faster. Apparently, if you don't even get grade eight algebra, then we have a lot of work to do." Santana bit her lip a little guiltily, "So, don't question me, just go along with it, ok?" And for some reason, she felt a little gremlin on her shoulder, and she mocked, "Do you get it? Nod."  
For a split second, Santana looked taken aback at Brittany's forcefulness. Then, a ghost of a smile appeared on her face and she remarked, "You know Bi-Pierce, you're not so bad when you finally quit putting up with people's bullshit." Santana nodded.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Hey! Another short chapter, sorry! Again, I promise the next one is longer :3 Anywhoo, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! :)**

After that, the lesson went by smoothly. Santana quit complaining. But, at the same time, Brittany was a little flustered that Santana had _complimented_ her... If it even was a ompliment. It was the complete opposite of what she was expecting; which was some kind of Spanish rage, followed by a diva-ish exit of the library. Nope. Nothing of that sort came (To Brittany's slight disappointment).  
She was also a little flustered with herself; she wasn't expecting that... breakdown. Well, more it was like a female hormone bitch monster that kept coming out of her mouth. Oh well, she had a bad day, and was irritated; so it wasn't completely unexpected that that monster had showed itself. That monster was what impressed Santana anyways. What made her shut up.  
She was a little tempted to act like that every algebra lesson. But she never would, cause if Santana had a bad day, she would be in for a world of shit.

It was Wednesday morning, Brittany was making her way to her locker as usual, the ex-Cheerios in almost the exact same state as yesterday. Some appeared to have cried themselves dry, however.  
"Hey, Brittany," Artie rolled himself up to her in the halls.

"Artie, hey," She greeted a bit unenthusiastically.

"You didn't make it to Comic Book Club yesterday? Sam said you had to tutor Santana Lopez?"

"Uh, yeah," Brittany looked over her shoulders nervously. For some reason she felt like she could get in trouble from Santana because she had told her friends, and maybe Santana didnt't want it getting around? "Can you not talk so loudly though, Artie?"

"That sucks, I'm sure she's a pain," Artie ignored her request, "But you're going to be able to make it today, right?"

"Uhm... No..." She said guiltily.

"What? You're missing two days in a row?"

"Yeah. I can only make it to Friday club meetings; Santana's got me working to tutor her Tuesday's, Wednesday's and Thursday's. Sorry."

"Oh... Well would you like me to fill you in? I can fill you in on anything you miss-"  
Artie was cut off by two slushies coming down on both of their heads. Red mush sickly trickled down into her eyes, but she didn't feel the usual embarressment; no, what she was feeling was anxious. Alright, which one of these girls are going to break down?  
Santana, once again seemed to appear from out of thin air,

"Really, Fabray?" Santana whined, "You really had to slushy my tutor?"  
Fabray...? Quinn slushied them?

Reluctantly, Brittany turned around to look at the blonde ex-Cheerio, who shrugged nonchalantly, "Not my problem. I just had to make sure these nerds know we're still above them. Keep order in place."

Santana looked as though she were talking to the biggest moron on the planet, "Idio-" She started to hiss, but was cut off by a dismayed cry, "Quinn's a traitor!"

"Oh dear God..." Santana muttered, and hit Quinn over the head, just as all the ex-Cheerios in that hallway broke into chaos; some collapsed in a sobbing heap, literally rocking back and forth on the floor. Some were screaming and pelting out of the hallway. Some looked like they wanted to go destroy Quinn.

"You can't hit me!" Quinn shrieked and grabbed Santana by the shoulders, attempting to push her into the lockers. That's when everything made sense, Quinn was one of those less-sane ex-Cheerios. She was just desperately trying to regain her spot.  
Santana was yanking at Quinn's hair, screaming something undistinguishable at her.  
_  
_"Hey, hey, hey!" Mr. Schue came running down the hall to stop the fight, as Mrs. Eden screamed and locked the door to her classroom. The Spanish teacher pulled Santana off of Quinn, and held the two girls (Who were acting more like gorillas. Seriously, she was pretty sure she saw Quinn beat her chest) apart from each other with all his strength.  
"What is going on here?" He demanded, catching Quinn just in time as she broke free from his grasp.

"Mama Bear here had to go and be a dumbass, slushying people in the middle of the hallway!" Santana shouted, "Which is a bad fucking idea-"

"-Language-!"

"Considering all the ex-Cheerios are in a state of crazy!" Santana finished,

"She hit me first!" Quinn screeched so loud Brittany, Artie, and all the other remaining kids in the hall cringed.

"To knock some sense into the idiot blonde head of yours!" Santana spat looking like she was about to lunge again.

"_I'm_ just trying to keep the place in balance! Make sure they know _I _am still head bitch around here!"

The whole argument, Mr. Schue just stood there, keeping the two of them apart, looking awkward and unsure how to interject.

"Head Psycho Bitch." Santana grumbled just as the bell for first period rung. Mr. Schue swallowed thickly, "Get to your classes, everyone!" He ordered, but Brittany just uncomfortably scuttled over to the nearest bathroom. She could be late for Foods, it was no huge deal.  
Instead, she slowly cleaned the slushy off of herself, although it had been sitting on her skin and clothes too long now, and there was a bit of a pink stain. That was no huge deal, either. What was a huge deal were the thoughts flitting through her head; Santana had complained about Quinn slushying her. '_Really, Fabray? You really had to slushy my tutor_?' That's what Santana had said. Santana Lopez is not supposed to show any feelings besides Bitch, Ultra Bitch, Ultra Mega Bitch, Irritation and Rage. Know what isn't on that list, besides Happiness? Any minor, miniscule, microscopic fleck of Care or Exasperation, that's what! It was confusing.  
_No, Brittany, you're confusing. _The little voice in her head reasoned; _You're just confusing yourself, and making a big deal out of nothing. Really. It was nothing_.  
Nothing. It was nothing. It was something, but it was nothing. Nothing important.  
But it felt good to think it was.

Santana wasn't in Spanish. Or algebra. She worried that the girl had got suspended, because Quinn was missing as well. Would that interfere with their tutoring if she was? She contemplated not even showing up, but decided against it. Twenty minutes, if Santana wasn't there in twenty minutes, she would leave.  
So Brittany made her way into the library, this time, she made sure to bring her phone with her. Slinking down at the same table as yesterday, she carelessly let her binder fall down onto the table as she undid the pass code to her iPhone, and opened up Temple Run. She played that for a while, and then Ice Cream Jump.  
After a great period of time passed, she checked the clock; suddenly feeling like she shouldn't leave even if it was longer than twenty minutes. After all, what if Santana shows up and she's not there? Clearly, the other girl had a bad day, and also clearly, her patience would be thin, and tomorrow she'd pay. Whether it be a not-so-public slushy attack, or the Latina would just go out of her way to make Brittany's day hell.  
To her luck, it had only been seventeen minutes.  
Through the doorway, came a flustered looking Santana. No, flustered wasn't the word; _annoyed_ was the more correct term. Great... Just her luck... annoyed Santana.  
"Sorry I'm late," She huffed as she slid into the chair on the opposite side of the table. _Sorry? Santana was apologizing?_  
"Don't look at me like I just gave birth to a litter of flying pigs!" The dark-haired girl snapped, stopping momentarily as she unzipped her binder.

"My bad, sorry." Brittany apologized herself. Santana rolled her eyes. Ugh, teaching her would require even more energy then it did yesterday while she was in this bad mood.

"Wait," Brittany said quietly, Santana looked at her suspiciously, "Why don't I just quiz you today? On what I taught you yesterday?"

"Shouldn't I learn something new? I mean, I want to be back on the Cheerios before I'm forty and gross."

"Trust me, Santana- you aren't stupid. You can spare one day, considering JBI over there is trying to teach Lucy DelMotta basic calc." She pointed lightly to the Jew-Fro'd boy and brunette ex-Cheerio a couple tables over, "You're just lazy."  
Santana raised an eyebrow, "Not too lazy to kick Fabray's ass." The girl smirked, her expression softening. It was more like a cross between a smile and a smirk. That, or Santana was trying to smile, but smiling was so foreign to her face it looked unusual. A small grin crept to Brittany's own face, "So what do you say? Easy test, so we can both be home by four?" Santana's face faltered, and her smile/smirk dropped.

"Yeah, sure."

"Ok. Constant?"

"Oh, we're not even writing it out?"

Brittany shook her head, "No, it's an oral test."_ An oral test_. Once what she said sunk in, she felt her cheeks flush, and she ducked her head a little, pushing up her glasses as she did so. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!  
_  
"An oral test?" Santana mocked, her features full of amusement, "Just, Wanky, Bi-Pierce. You know I don't roll that way."

"S-Sorry," She stuttered, "I just meant... it's, uh... it's quicker than- than writing it out, you know?"

"Hmm. Fine. A constant is a number alone."

Brittany felt a little relieved with how easily Santana brushed off the whole thing, "Good." She sighed out, "Coefficient?"

"A number right before a variable."

"Which is?"

"An unknown number."

They went on for a couple more questions. She was happy with how Santana had remembered all of it. Then again, this was really easy. "Great!" She smiled, "You aced it." Brittany began packing up her things.

"Duh." Santana rolled her amber eyes yet again, although she was smiling; Brittany was able to tell that the girl was very pleased with herself, "But," She went on, "We are going to learn something new tomorrow, right? Not just this oral stuff?" The Latina scorned at Brittany's expense. Brittany blushed again, still at a complete war with herself for saying such a thing.

"Uhh yeah. I'll teach you other... stuff." She said awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. She just wanted to go now.

Santana half grinned in amusement, "Fantastic." She breathed, and the two parted without any more words.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Here we are! Sorry for the wait, but I literally haven't been home since Friday morning. I felt so bad, I combined to chapter in one, you lucky bastards! :) Part 1 is kind of looking into Brittany's life some more, and part 2 is some bonding between our lovelies :P I promise, next chapter will have even more Brittana! I cross my heart and hope to die xx**

Brittany lay on her bed, Lord Tubbington asleep, purring contently on her stomach. It was Thursday morning, and school had been cancelled today, because a huge storm had rolled in in the early hours of the morning. Such a storm that mini-power outs had been happening all morning over the course of three hours that she had been awake. Outside the rain was beating down on the earth and the houses loudly, with the occasional roar of thunder and flash of lightning.  
Brittany grimaced, as much as she loved her handsome Lord T, he _so_ needed a diet. It was actually uncomfortable for him to be asleep on her belly, considering she had to flex her stomach muscles to support his weight. Oh well, it was a good workout.  
Brittany heard her phone vibrate across the room.  
What? Human contact?  
Eager to see who it was, Brittany, as gently as she could, shoved Lord Tubbington off her stomach, who mewed in protest, and bounced across her room to grab her iPhone.  
Brittany found that it was a message from Artie, stating; _Hey Britt, just wanted 2 let u know we were all thinking about getting together at Sam's place for the premier of Dead Sight on TV 2morrow, are you in?_

The answer was easy; _Of course_!

After a couple more pointless texts with Artie, she decided it was maybe time to roll out of her room- and not just for breakfast this time.  
Downstairs, Joel was sitting on the couch watching Spongebob Squarepants, eating some bacon and eggs. Stealing a piece of bacon from his plate, she flopped down on the couch beside him.  
"Hey!" Joel exclaimed, looking annoyed that his sister dare steal a piece of food from him.

"Ohh, don't whine; mom didn't even make _me_any." She smiled, giving him a noogie and eating the bacon with the other hand. Joel just glared.

"So," Brittany went on, "How is your crush doing?" She winked. Bugging her little brother was something she enjoyed doing, although she always meant it in the most loving way possible; he was much too cute to actually tease.  
Joel shrugged, playing with his eggs, "She doesn't even notice me."

"Have you been talking to her?"

"Yeah."

"Have you been being nice?"

"Yeah!"

"Hey, don't you get snappy, I'm only trying to help!" She scolded, poking her brother a little roughly in the shoulder with her toe. "Well, next time you see her, why don't you ask her what she's being Halloween? Or if she's going trick-or-treating?" She suggested. Joel continued playing with his eggs, staying silent.  
"Wait," She furrowed her brow, "What are_ you _even going as anyways?"

"Optimus Prime." Joel mumbled, finally giving up on his meal and shoving it away from him a little bit. Brittany stole the remaining piece of bacon.

"I see. I see." By now she was pretty comfy, which pretty much broke her whole reason for getting out of bed, because she spent the next two and a half hours watching cartoons with her little brother, and then when the power went out a couple times, he tried to explain to her how to play Pokemon. Surprisingly, as big of a nerd as she was, she never bothered with the little Japanese fighting creatures. She didn't get it.  
Twelve thirty rolled around, and Brittany was upside down on the couch, playing pass with her brother and watching Finding Nemo on TV.

"Mooom!" She groaned, "I'm hungry! And bored."

Her mother poked her head out of the kitchen archway, "Well, why don't you play on the Wii? You hardly ever use that thing anymore! Or invite Tina, or Artie or someone over."

"But what if the power goes out while I'm playing it?" She nearly missed the little blue and yellow ball that flew towards her, but she caught it and tossed it back to Joel. Her mom sighed, and rested her hands on her hips, "Well, why don't you go upstairs and dance, or something? You haven't danced in a while."  
Brittany grimaced; it was true. She had pretty much gave up on dancing. Part of her missed it, part of her didn't care of that absence in her life. She used to live to dance, she wanted that as her future, maybe. Yeah, it was a lot of work, but it was pretty fun and relaxing once she got into it. She even took classes!  
And then...  
Disaster.  
In tenth grade, when she was dancing, she broke her ankle; it still hurt if she put a little too much pressure on it. So... bye bye, dancing. That was only a now and then thing nowadays; mostly just in the shower.  
She was snapped out of her thoughts by the ball thunking on her forehead, but it still bounced back to Joel, who erupted in a fit of giggles.

"Hey," She grunted, sitting up; the blood must be rushing from her head, "Watch the glasses!" She smiled, pushing up the thick glasses, as usual.

Joel just giggled more.

"Well... I'm gonna go shower. Find something good on TV, alright?" She pointed at her brother,

"But... Finding Nemo _is_good!" He argued.

"When you've seen it about five million times, it starts to lose its touch," She giggled, "Plus, we own it, little bro. You can watch it later."

Upstairs, she felt an urge to make sure she hadn't gotten any more texts from Artie, as she flopped down on the bed beside Lord Tubbington. In all honesty, she was a little surprised when she unlocked the screen to see a little bubble indicating a new text.  
She was even more surprised to see it was from an unknown number.

_Hey_

That's all it said. Just a greeting.

_Who's this? _She typed back, checking to see when she had recieved the text message; thirty eight minutes ago. This person could have walked away from their phone, long gone by now. She waited two minutes and there was still no response.  
Shrugging, she got up and started pulling off her shirt, and turning on the shower, still a bit caught up in her own thoughts; who would be texting _her_?... Had Kurt or someone got a new phone?  
When the water was warm enough, she slipped out of her plaid pyjama bottoms, and was about to wiggle out of her panties when she heard her phone vibrate on her bed.  
She left the water running and scuttled back into her room, picked up her phone, and stared at the new message;

_Who do you think, Bi-Pierce?_

Brittany blinked. What?  
She read it a good five times, it still didn't make sense. Why? How? What?

_...Santana?_

This. Didn't. Make. Any. Sense. Was this some kind of joke? Was it Puckerman trying to mess with her? _That _would make sense.

_Great, would you like a gold star?  
_  
The person that may-or-may-not be Santana sneered over text. She blinked a couple times, the whole thing was overwhelming, more or less.

_How did you get my number? And why are you texting me? :S_

Fabray had it. And Jesus fucking Christ, what's so bad about me texting you? I texted you to talk about our tutoring lessons, FYI.

She blinked up a tornado this time. Nothing she had just said seemed logical.

Why would Quinn have her number?  
Santana must know everything that was not right about her texting Brittany (Although she was still undecided whether or not it was Santana)  
And why would she need to talk about tutoring? Is she calling the tutoring off? Oh God, was it the 'oral' thing? That was a mistake!  
With all the questions buzzing around in her head, she wasn't sure how to respond until she realized it had been three minutes since recieving Santana's last text.

_Oh. Ok, what is it?_

She finally managed to answer.

_Are we still going to tutor today? I want to. You know, since yesterday's oral quiz was kind of pointless and an excuse to be lazy. I still want to get back on the squad, remember?_

Brittany made a slight choking sound at Santana's mention of her vocal mishap.

_But the school is closed?_

No shit, Sherlock. That's quite observant of you. No, but I meant, do you think we could get together somewhere else?

Brittany put her phone back down on the bed, grabbed her glasses from the bathroom counter and re-read the text three times to make sure she had read it right. She had.

_Like?  
_This was not... No. This, didn't seem... acceptable? It didn't seem right?

_I don't know?_

Brittany spent the next minute and a half with her thumbs hovering over her keyboard, unsure how to respond. And then deciding whether or not she should say what she was about to say;

_Do you want me to go to your house or something? :/_

The response was almost immediate;

_No._

She deflated. Dammit! She shouldn't have said that, she knew she shouldn't have said that! She was so stupid! Santana probably thinks she's a huge weirdo now!  
Her phone buzzed on her lap again;

_Do you think I could come over to your place?_

Brittany blanked at the little message on her screen.

_Yes. _Her finger flew over the keyboard. But they froze when she was about to hit 'send'; a response that quick would probably seem a little too eager, right? She hit the backspace, and re-typed the message;

_Yeah, that should be ok_

She counted to thirty before pressing the 'send' button. Santana Lopez was going to be at her house!  
Her heart fluttered like a butterfly in her chest. This was exciting! Someone so popular would be at her house!

_Alright. Same time as usual? Oh and your address. That would help._

318 Crescent Street. And yeah, same time.

Sounds good.

They left it at that. Actually, Brittany just didn't know how to continue the conversation; she didn't want Santana thinking she was too annoying. She really wanted her to come over. Was that weird? That she was a little excited that Santana might see her room?  
Wait.  
Brittany eyed around her room suspiciously. The biggest, most uncool nerd den ever. Superhero posters... Star Wars blankets... Unicorn figurines.  
She swallowed thickly. She'd tone down her nerdiness a little bit after her shower.

Brittany stood under the warm water of the shower, her head rested against the wall, and just let the streams run down her body as she thought; at first she was thinking; where would she even start with organizing her room? Her posters. Her bedsheets. Figurines. Tidy her bookshelf.  
And somehow, that progressed to; what would happen when Santana was here? Tutoring, obviously. But some, sick, twisted part of her head had thought 'what if...?' well, now it seemed a little too absurd to even go back to. And an even sicker part of her brain had enjoyed the thought whole heartedly.  
Now she was just embarrassed at herself.  
With a groan, she slapped herself lightly on the forehead with her palm; this is Santana. The same Santana that had slept with nearly the whole male population of the school. And Pukerman. Ew.  
Not only that, she was a bitch. Had Brittany witnessed some rare, new science of 'The Soft Side of Santana Lopez' at the theatre? Perhaps. It surely seemed to be that way. Because the girl was still herself throughout all of tutoring.  
_No, but she's not__** as **__bad during tutoring. _  
Wait.  
Brittany snapped her eyes open; why is she trying to convince herself that? It may be true, but why does she keep trying to forgive Santana?  
Lord. She can't have a crush on that girl! She just can't! If Santana were to figure it out...  
She swallowed.  
That would be bad.  
_No, no, Brittany! _She scolded herself inwardly; _If you want to be close to her, just try to be her friend. Friends are good.  
_Sighing at her own dumbness, she finished lathering her hair, and turned off the shower.  
After drying off, she went into her room, and still had the urge to make it less nerdy. Which she did.  
She traded in her Star Wars blanket for the spare colourful one that was kept in the laundry room. She hid her posters under her bed, besides her Paramore and (after some consideration) Harry Potter one. Same goes for the unicorn figurines. She then made her bookshelf a little neater, by making sure non of her comic books had splayed on the ground, or any of her other books, for that matter. After deciding this was as un-geeked as the bedroom was going to get, she went back downstairs.

"What took you so long?" Joel complained.

"Sorry, bud. Did you find anything good on TV?" She pushed up her glasses. Joel shrugged.

"Ok, well, I'll be right back in a minute, 'k? I just need to go talk to mom for a minute."

"Ok."

Brittany slipped into the kitchen. Her mother really enjoyed cooking, so the kitchen is often where she could be found. The mid-forties woman was cutting up vegetables. People also often told her she and her mother looked a lot alike; this, she could see, the tiniest bit to her disappointment. The same long blonde hair, (although her mothers was going a bit silver), the same nose, and the same blue eyes. The only thing of her real dad she got was his height and his mouth. She missed him. Like a lot. She always got along better with him, she thought. In fact, although sometimes it felt harsh in her own head, she didn't like her mother very much at all. Of course, she loved her mom. And there were times that her heart felt like it was going to implode with love. But most of the time... she felt disappointed that she was her mom. Her mother was so very paranoid. Very paranoid. The reason she and dad didn't get along was because she thought dad was cheating on her, which he wasn't. But... whatever. Since she had met Garrett it hadn't been as bad.

"Hey mom," She said, leaning against the counter.

"Hmm?"

"You know how I told you I'm tutoring that girl, right?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Well, since school got cancelled today, she's going to come over for a quick lesson, is that ok?"

Her mom stopped cutting the carrots and turned to her, one hand on her hip, "It's alright. What was her name again?"  
Brittany shuffled uncomfortably, suddenly a little nervous; what if her mom had heard about her?

"Santana Lopez?"

"Lopez? Is her dad a doctor?"

Brittany shrugged, "I dunno."

Her mom started cutting the carrots again, "Oh. Well it's fine anyways. What time will she be here?"

"Any time from three to four, I'm guessing."

"Will she be here for dinner?"

"Uhm..." Brittany shuffled again, "I don't know."

"Well, you better ask."

"Ok." Brittany started to walk out of the kitchen.

"Oh, and Britt?" Her mom called softly. Brittany turned on heel slowly, "I'm glad you're making new friends, honey." Great. Just what every child wants to here. Fantastic. Oh, and she's not even a friend. Whatever.  
She smiled awkwardly, and left the kitchen.  
In the living room, Joel was already watching Brittany enter like a puppy watching someone with a treat; "Did you say someone was coming over?" He asked excitedly. She imagined the little puppy tail wagging with such force his whole body shook with it.

"Yeah, Sonic Hearing, someone is." She giggled, sitting down on the couch next to him once again.

"Is it Sam?" He bounced up and down on the couch. Joel had something of a hero-worship over Sam, she wasn't entirely sure why, but the little boy was always very clingy over him.

"No, dork, it's not. It's Marie's big sister."

His face fell to confusion, "Huh? Why is she coming over?"

"I'm helping her with school."

"Oh... What kind of school stuff?"

"Math stuff." She replied, grabbing the remote off the table and beginning to channel surf.

"What're are you doing? I was watching that!" Joel frowned.

"Bud, if you want me to hangout with you, we are _not_watching Rescue Heroes."

By three o'clock, the rain had died down quite a bit. She almost considered texting Santana, and suggesting the local library instead, but stopped herself; no, she was not moving the tutoring session.  
By three thirty, she was upstairs in her room, sitting cross legged on the floor, algebra binder sprawled open as she reviewed her notes on solving a longer equation. It was almost like starting from scratch with Santana. Like she had demonstrated their first lesson; she even had a hard time solving even grade eight algebra.  
A shrill, almost chirping sound echoed throughout the house, and Brittany shot to her feet; the doorbell had rung. It _must_ be Santana!  
Almost stumbling over her own feet, she booked it out of her room and down the hall, she was halfway down the stairs when she saw her mom open the door and it indeed, revealed it to be the ex-Cheerio.

Brittany didn't even know why she suddenly got a semi-overwhelming sense of sense of nervousness. Probably because she just realized Santana was in her home- her safe haven, where she was supposed to be herself, but she still had to change, in fear of being judged? That whole scenario just kicked her in the shins, that was certain.

"Hello!" Her mom greeted a little too perkily, "You must be Santana?"  
Brittany face-palmed herself, and waited for the sarcastic remark.

"Yes, I am! Hi." There it was again. Santana sounded normal, and kind, even.

Her mom smiled widely, and gestured for Santana to come in. Brittany awkwardly stood on the stairs, unsure whether or not she should stay on the stairs, or go to the bottom of the stairs. Joel was watching the other girl from the couch too, he looked like a scared little rabbit.

"Hey." She greeted as Santana, to her surprise, kind of uncomfortably walked over to the staircase. Is she actually nervous?

"Hey." She echoed the greeting, "So..." Santana drawled,

"Uhm... well, my stuff is upstairs." The whole exchange was painfully awkward, even for Brittany. And that's saying a lot.

"Oh ok." It looked somewhat like the Latina tried to shrug, but it came off more as an uncomfortable twitch of the shoulders.

Brittany twiddled her thumbs and turned around, starting to climb the stairs again; she heard Santana follow, "'K, well, my room is this way." Brittany said, turning to the right of the hallway. She just mostly said it because it was better then the weird silent tension that was strung between the two of them like a thick ugly cord.  
She pushed open her door and it gave off a small creak,

"This is less nerdy than I expected." Santana remarked, evidently trying to break the ice as well. Brittany had a sudden urge to admit that she had cleaned up when Santana asked to come over, but she kept her mouth shut.

"Oh. Uhh, thanks I guess. Oh hey," She bounced up and down on her toes, "Do you want to meet my cat?" Brittany beamed. If anyone could break the ice, it was Lord Tubbington; he was good at that.

"Your cat? You want me to meet your _cat_?" The Latina responded flatly. Brittany nodded with enthusiasm.

"Yes." She replied, and skipped over to her bed. Prodding at the lump under the covers, Lord Tubbington peeked his head out and meowed, "Get out of there," She scolded the cat, pulling the coulourful blanket off the sleeping heap. Brittany looked back at Santana, who was just staring with mild interest.

"Oh, come on! You won't be able to see him from over there!" Brittany laughed, and then cut herself short, "Wait, are you allergic or something?"  
Santana shook her head, and slowly walked over to her bed. Her eyes widened when they rested on the cat.

"Holy shit! That's a cat?" Santana eyed the cat suspiciously.

"Yes, Lord Tubbington is a cat!"

"Lord Tubbington? Fitting. Are you sure he's not part hippo?"

Brittany gently placed her hands over Lord Tubbington's soft ears, "Santana, he is very self-conscious about his weight."

"Is he diabetic?" Santana laughed,

"No, he's just overweight." She stated firmly.

Santana, who was actually smiling with her teeth by now, giggled, "Why is he so big? Does he smoke?"

Brittany let out a chuckle too, "Maybe that's why he's putting on the pounds?" She joked. Santana laughed along, "Buy him some Nicorette kitty treats or something."

The two shared a giggle for a little while longer. This was nice. Santana was nice. Sometimes. When she wanted to be.  
She cleared her throat when they fell back into a silence; although it was less awkward now (She mentally thanked Lord Tubbington for being such a great conversation starter) "So uh, should we start now?"

Santana nodded, "Yeah, sure. I see you were already going over things?" She smiled a little, pointing to the binder on the ground.

"Oh. Yeah. I was thinking; solving long equations today?"

Santana rolled her eyes, "Sounds fine Bi-Pier-" The girl stopped abruptly.  
"Sounds fine." She corrected herself. That was... odd. Attempting to shrug it off, Brittany got up and sat on the floor again near her binder.

"You don't have to sit on the ground," She assured Santana, "I'm just weird and like to."  
She didn't wait for a response, she just started flipping through her notes.

"Ok, well you know the first step for solving equations is collecting like terms? In long equations it might just be a little more work, which is a little more irritating, but, I mean, you can't really do anything about that. But, once you do that, it's actually quite easy with practice. So, I'll just give you a couple of easy ones first, and we'll progress to harder ones? Does that sound ok? If that makes sense?" Brittany pushed up her glasses, and looked over to the bed where Santana had taken her seat beside Lord Tubbington, and was a little startled to find that Santana wasn't there anymore. No, the Latina had re-located herself on the floor beside her bookshelf, back to Brittany and head crowned over one of her Comic books. She huffed,

"Santana? You aren't even listening!"

"You know, this is actually kind of interesting." Santana mumbled in reply. Rubbing her forehead in a bit of exasperation, she half crawled half shuffled over to the Latina; wondering what the heck she had even started reading. Peeking over the tan girl's shoulder, she saw that Santana had pulled the first edition of Dead Sight off her shelf, and was already on page twenty three.

"Could I borrow this?" Santana asked, flipping the page without even glancing up at her.

"If I say yes, will you listen to your tutoring?" She groaned, although she was actually quite amused. Santana was... well... well dear Lord, she was actually kind of acting like a dork.

"Maybe." Santana flipped the page again.

"Then yes, you can borrow it. Now, did you even hear anything I said before?"

"No."

She sighed. She did not feel like repeating herself, but, she can't back out and be lazy again. After all, she promised Santana she would learn something today.  
"Ok well first," She started again, "Put the book down." Gently, she closed the cover of the book, and placed it on the bed. Santana looked disgruntled at that action, but didn't respond.

"Second," Brittany went on, "Try not to be distracted by my many nerd wonders," Santana grinned at that a little, and that made Brittany grin back, "Thirdly, just listen this time, ok?"

"Fine." Santana rolled her eyes in amusement.

Brittany crawled back over to her binder, "What I was saying, whilst you were so rudely reading about zombies, was that solving long equations isn't as hard as it may look. Just add up the like terms, like in shorter equations, and then it's the same; just solve. I was saying I could give you some easy ones first, and then we could just build up to the more difficult ones?"

Santana twisted her lips, "Alright, whatever. May as well get it over with."

"'Atta girl." Brittany grinned, pushing up her glasses as she flipped to a blank piece of paper and wrote down four long equations, solving each one in her head first to make sure they were simple enough for Santana to complete with out having a frustration breakdown. See, she knew Santana's problem with math; once she had to provide more effort than she would like to, she became bored or frustrated, thus giving up on completing the answer. The problem wasn't that she was dumb, the problem was that she had a short attention span.  
She knew this because she used to be the same way; it took almost failing seventh grade for her to pull her act together.

"Alright, get to work, I'll be on the bed," Brittany slid the paper and pencil over to Santana, who had grown a devilish smile.

"Wanky." the girl remarked, picking up the pencil.

"Huh?" Brittany blanked.

"Nothing." Santana mumbled, beginning to draw out the like terms of the first equation. Brittany shrugged off the word, and snatched up her own copy Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix- she was re-reading the series for the third time.  
After what had to be ten minutes of silence, she inquired out loud, "You doing ok? If you need help it's ok to ask, you know."

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Brittany read for another five minutes; still, the Latina declared no assurance that she had finished the equations. Ok, she must be too proud to admit she needs some help. Brittany picked up her bookmark, stuffing it into her book, and put it down to see... no Santana. And no Dead Sight book at the foot of her bed. Brittany sat up a little more, to see the girl sitting in the same spot she was before, buried in the book.

"Santana!" She scolded, snatching the book out of the Latina's hands and hitting her firmly over the head with it.

"Ah! Dios! You don't need to get all batshit!" The girl complained, rubbing her head and scowling at her.

"Well, did you even finish your questions?"

"...Yes."

"You're lying." Brittany accused playfully.

"Am not!"

Brittany got off her bed and walked over to the sheet, examining it. She picked it up, "You did two and a half, then drew a picture of an angry cupcake!" She exclaimed, laughing, "Oh look! It even has a caption;_ Cupcake disapproves of Brittany's algebraic practices, in which she forces onto Santana. Cupcakes word is law, let the stupid ass letters burn in hell_.' " Brittany couldn't bother to contain her laughter, nor could Santana. This was a discovery to her; Santana was really dorky when she was alone! That was amazing; this was. The fact that they actually got along well. The fact... everything. Right now, no matter how much it was still processing, Santana with her bitch walls down was really fun! And nice!

"Don't blame me! I just wanted to read more of this," Santana smirked- a happy smirk- down at the book.

"I know you do! But you really need to learn this!" She insisted, handing the paper back to the Latina.

"I just got bored." Santana whined, proving Brittany's suspicions right.

Brittany raised an eyebrow, "With that attitude, you will never get back on Cheerios."

This time, Santana frowned a little.

"I know, but..." Santana made vague hand gestures in the air as she groped her mind for a word, "It's just so... so... pointless."

"I couldn't agree with you more Santana, however," She plopped back down on her bed, "It is a must-learn. For some reason."

Santana stared down at the paper for what seemed like ages, before saying, "Bi-Pierce, I'm glad you're helping me, but," Santana rose to her feet, "I think... I think I'm gonna go, alright, Blondie? I'll see you at school tomorrow."  
It felt like someone poured a bucket of water over her head- cold water. What? Why are her walls coming back up?

"But... we haven't even learned anything? Or, you haven't..." Brittany argued weakly.

The Latina rolled her eyes impatiently, "Fine. Hows about you write out some more of those equations and I'll work on them at home?" Santana leaned against the wall.

Confused, all she could do was nod numbly, and she wrote out another four questions. Holding out the paper unsurely, Santana snatched it up, and folded it not-so-neatly.  
"Ok. Bye." Santana went for the door. Brittany looked down.

"Wait!" She said abruptly, causing Santana to spin around and snap, "What?"

Taken aback even further, Brittany bent over and picked up the first copy of Dead Sight off the floor, "You asked if you could borrow this?" She reminded the Latina.  
Santana looked at the comic book, a flash of several emotions softening her face. Then it became impassive and hard again as she took the book slowly.  
"Thanks."

"Yeah uh... no problem."

It felt like her duty to at least walk to the bottom of the stairs as Santana left. As soon as she left the door, she made her way back up to her room.  
It seemed strange again; not ten minutes ago she and Santana were in here, being happy. Friendly.  
She must have jinxed it, by thinking about how good Santana was without walls. Because they had built up again. Suddenly, and the force of them seemed even stronger. The walls probably only seemed harder because she was so... soft, before they came crashing up again.  
What made them go up again? Was it something she said?  
She picked up the sheet of paper that Santana had left on the floor where she had sat, and it was hard to contain the smile that crept to her lips when she saw that silly little picture of the upset cupcake- so she let the grin come. This was Santana without walls; a cupcake. She wished she would be this way more often, instead of always resorting back to some kind of burnt oatmeal cookie.  
But for now, she saved the memory of just that; a cupcake, by folding up the piece of paper, and putting it in the pocket of her binder.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Hey guys! So so so sorry for the long time to update again! :( It's been a busy week, but, here we go- hope you enjoy it! :)**

"Tina! Hurry up with the popcorn! The show starts in," Kurt checked his 'fashionable mens watch', "Three and a half minutes!"

"Kurt, hold up," Brittany turned to the boy on Sam's couch, "I'm still a little confused as to why you came? I mean, don't you hate Dead Sight?"

"I never said hate. Just dislike. The only thing bringing me here is to see my future husband; Shane Lucas."

"Who?"

Kurt looked at her as if she had just asked who Barrack Obama was, "Shane Lucas? Haven't you ever seen Blood Diaries or First Dates?" he inquired, as Tina and Sam returned from the kitchen holding a big bowl of popcorn and milkshakes.

"First Dates? That's a comedy, right?" She clarified, Kurt nodded, "Then yeah, I think I've seen that."

"Ok. Shane plays that guy Roger. He is the most handsomest thing on this planet- besides Channing Tatum. And, he got cast as Garrett Friedman, and he's the main character, right?"

"Ooh, it's on y'all!" Artie fist pumped his hand in the air, and the room fell silent as the television show started. Brittany could almost recite every word, and she knew what was going to happen next by heart- she had read the books about a hundred times. The same book Santana is reading... her book.  
Today at school had gone by... disappointingly. She arrived at the school, to find some kind of fight of the century going on inside of Figgins office between the principal, Coach Sue and Mr. Schue. By lunch, every single ex-Cheerio was back in their uniform. She was going to ask Santana if that meant their tutoring was off, but she was answered by a slushy and a laugh. That lunch she had been slushied more than she had in a single day- ever. Six times. All in all, it had been a bad day.

After the premier episode wrapped, and Sam jumped up, flicking on the light,  
"That was epic!" He exclaimed, giving everyone a high five.

"Yeah, I was surprised with how well they stuck to the storyline- usually when a book goes into TV they mess it up." Tina remarked, returning the high five to the blonde boy. Brittany nodded her agreement. It had stuck to the plot well. The only thing she could really complain about was the casting for a couple characters; like Carly, in the book she was tan and had dark hair- actually, she looked a bit like a certain Latina at her school... in the show, they had made her a red-head.

"Alright, who's all staying over?" Sam asked. Tina shrugged, Artie nodded and said he could, Kurt shook his head no,

"I can't," Brittany frowned, "My parents said I have to be home- we have a thing tomorrow. I need to go shopping for my little brothers birthday."

"Oh." Sam looked disappointed briefly, but then turned his attention to Tina and began discussing whether or not she could stay the night.

"Kurt, do you think you could drive me home?" She asked, Kurt nodded happily, "Of course!" He waved his hand in dismissal, "I'm planning to head out at about eleven, though. Is that too late?"  
Brittany shook her head, "Nah. I'll just text my mom to make sure it's ok."

"So Britt, I meant to ask you," Kurt said as they got into the car, and he plugged in his seatbelt, "Since the Cheerios are all back in order, do you still have to tutor Santana?"

Brittany shrugged, "I really don't know. I tried asking today and got a slushy facial as an answer."

"Ooh..." Kurt cringed, "I'd take that as a no then."  
The two fell into silence for nearly ten minutes, it was only broken by two cop cars speeding past them, sirens on.

"What do you think is going on?" Kurt asked curiously, slowing down a little bit. She shrugged, "I don't know, it's Friday night, some stupid party, I bet."

Kurt snorted, "That's right... I heard Noah talking about a party at David's tonight during English class today."

"Doesn't surprise me..." She sighed. All the popular kids partied nearly every other weekend- part of her wondered how they could do it, get drunk and high and stay up till four every other weekend. Hell, if she stayed up till one sober she would have to sleep until two the next afternoon just to feel a bit less fuzzy and stupid.  
The car rounded a corner, and Brittany immediately spotted a figure on the side of the road wobbling around and hanging onto a lamp post for support.

"Yupp." She remarked as they drove past the highschool aged boy, "Definitely a party."

"Kind of early to be party ditching, don't you think?" Kurt asked, "I mean, it's only twenty after eleven. Don't those things go until three or something?"

"Must be some party..." She murmurred, striving to get another peek at the guy by craning her head around to look out the back window, although it was no use.

The drove for another two minutes, before they spotted another wobbly figure, "Oh hey look," Kurt said, "Another one." He pointed at the dark figure. Brittany giggled, and tried to recognize the shadowy person. But once they drove closer, it became easier as Kurt's headlights lit the street, and the figure.

"Whoa, Kurt slow down," Brittany stated rather than asked, leering at the person in curiosity.

"Britt, I'm doing sixty- we'll be ok."

"No, Kurt- slow down!" She said with more urgency, and Kurt hesitantly slowed his vehicle.

"That's Santana." She said, a little bit to herself.

"No surprise there." Kurt muttered.

"Kurt, pull over, I think she's walking home."

"What? Britt, no way, I'm not giving that witch a ride."

"Kurt! She lives in Lima Plateau, she can't walk all the way there!"

"Well I am not driving another fifteen minutes out of my way for someone who's only ever been rude to me and my friends!"

Brittany bit her tongue- with every passing second Kurt drove farther away from Santana. Also, truthfully, she knew she shouldn't even be wanting to help the girl- she had every right to be pissed right off at Santana. She had been warm as a blanket and then cold as ice to Brittany at her house, and then treated to a red slushy facial while being laughed at right in her face. Yet she still really wanted to help Santana.  
Stupid crush.

"Then drive her to my house!" She insisted. That made Kurt nearly hit the brakes in shock.

"Britt, sometimes I think you're too kind! You shouldn't help Santana, Santana has never done anything to deserve your help!"

"Kurt, please. I don't want her walking home, not when she's that drunk." Kurt looked as though he had strarted to think it over, "After all," She continued, "if I were in her position, I would want someone to help me."

Kurt shook his head, and rolled to a steady halt in the nearest parking spot, "Fine- go fetch her! But if she throws up in my car, I don't care- I will throw her onto the streets while I'm still driving, understand?"

"Understood!" She answered, already closing the car door. The wind outside carried a bit of a chill, and Brittany hugged her arms in attempt to warm herself as she strode down the pathway in front of all the closed stores. It was a bit creepy actually.

"Santana?" She said as she approached the teetering girl- she had an abrupt silly fear that it wasn't Santana. Or what if Santana was some kind of axe murder or zombie?

"Brittany?" The drunken girl kind of hiccoughed; it was definitely Santana.

"You walking home?" She tried to ask gently as she tried to get a look at Santana's face; the girl kept on sniffing, like she was crying.

"Yeah," She rubbed her face, "Yeah, I am."

"You want a ride?" She inquired, still trying to get a good look at Santana's features. But the dark was hiding them, besides the slight light from the streetlamp that was bouncing off her hair and outlining the side of her face.  
The Latina fell unusually quiet.  
And then broke into sobs, she took Brittany and hugged her so tight it was a difficulty to breathe while she gurgled something through her tears that sounded just like 'yes, yes, yes' repeated over and over.

"Ok," Brittany squirmed out of Santana's grasp and steadied her by awkwardly holding her shoulders, while the other girl cried uncontrollably into her.

"Uhm..." She said as they slowly made her way back to Kurt's car, "So how come you're leaving Karofsky's party so early, anyways?"  
The response was hard to distinguish, but Brittany collected enough to piece together what she was trying to tell her with the tidbits she did manage to hear ('Puckerman', 'stupid thing', 'cops', 'for sure.').

Brittany opened the back door to Kurt's car, and carefully lead Santana into the seat and handed her the seatbelt before climbing back into the passenger seat.

"Britt, what's happening?" Kurt asked, obviously horrfied with the scene of sobbing Santana Lopez as he re-started his car.  
She shrugged, "I just think she's one of those hysterical drunks."

"...I see. So, does she know that she's going to your house?"

With that, Brittany swiveled around in her seat, "Hey, Santana?" She said softly. The girl looked up at her with puffy, tear filled eyes. She went on, "Kurt doesn't want to have to drive all the way up to the Plateau- he has a curfew, so he's going to drive you to my place, and you could stay there, alright?"  
Santana nodded and began to sob again, as she continued to repeat, "It's ok, it's ok!"

"Ok then..." She drawled, turning back to Kurt, who still looked slightly terrified.

Kurt pulled into her driveway, and Santana had passed out in the backseat.  
"Alright... best of luck." Kurt gestured back at Santana, Brittany just nodded and rolled her eyes.  
She opened the passenger side door, walked back, and opened up the back door.

"Santana..." She tried, weakly shaking Santana. The Latina opened her eyes and cringed back; like she were expecting some kind of blow. But then she just mumbled something incoherent before attempting to stand up and get out of the car. After the failed attempt, Brittany took Santana's arm and helped heave her up.

Brittany opened the front door, hushing Santana because she had started to cry over something.  
Still holding Santana's arm, she lead the girl inside. In the living room, Garrett looked over the couch, concern etched in all his features.

"Brittany?" He asked, "Where have you been?"

"Sam's." She continued to lead Santana towards the staircase, but the girls violent wobbling was concerning her ability to even be able to climb the stairs.

"Sam's." He echoed in disbelief, "You've been drinking at Mr. and Mrs. Evans'?"

Her eyebrows hit her hairline, "What? No! No. She wasn't there," She jutted her thumb at Santana, "She was... somewhere. The Karofskys' I think."

"Uh-huh. And who is she, exactly?"

Brittany spoke to Santana quietly before answering Garrett, "Ok, just go to my room, ok? You remember where it is?" Santana nodded, hiccoughing as she tried to stiffle her sobs.  
The Latina began to climb the staircase.

"That's Santana," Brittany finally answered, "I tutor her. Me and Kurt just saw her walking home when he was driving me back here. He didn't want to drive all the way up to Lima Plateau, so I said she could crash here. I promise I didn't drink at all." She said quickly but firmly, as she looked over her shoulder at the Latina who was swaying as she escalated up the stairs.

"Don't fall!" She called softly.

Garrett furrowed his brow; he was a nice guy. But he was a little bit over protective sometimes, that's all.

"Ok..." He said, "I believe you. You did the right thing. But... why is she..."

"Crying?"

"Yes."

"I just think that's how she gets when she's drunk. I mean, she started sobbing because there was only one tulip in the garden."

"Oh. Alright, go get her some wate-" Garrett was cut off by a thud as Santana slipped on the top of the stairs and fell down. The Latina curled up and began to whimper into the carpet of the stairs. Brittany bit her lip, struggling to contain her giggles.

"I'll get her cleaned up and in bed, don't worry." She promised, heading up the stairs.

Brittany went over to Santana, "You're ok," She sighed, taking her arm once again, "Just, get up, I'll get you cleaned up and stuff." Santana sobbed and nodded, allowing Brittany to hoist her onto her feet. She brought Santana into her room, glad that she had been too lazy to return her room to its normal state since the Latina had been over for tutoring.  
This is so weird! She thought as she helped Santana down on the bed.  
"Do you feel sick?" She gently touched Santana's arm, "Because the bathroom is right over there," She pointed to the door attatched to her room. Santana shook her head.  
"No? Ok, that's good. Uhh..." Brittany looked around her room, unsure of what to do next, "Why don't we... uhh... Find you some comfy clothes to sleep in?" She got up and crossed the room to her dresser, opened her pyjama drawer and found the pair of plaid winter pyjama pants that were too bog for her, and then the baggiest shirt she could find. Hopefully these would fit the girl...  
Closing the drawer, she went back to the bed and handed the clothes to Santana, "Here. Try these on in the bathroom, I'll be out here. Just... Just tell me if they don't fit, ok? And we'll try to find something that does."  
Santana nodded, and began to speak through her hiccoughed sobs, "Thank you. I don't understand why you are so nice to me, when all I've ever been is..." The girl broke off into a couple of violent sobs before going on,

"Is crap to you! And yet you're still so kind to me and you keep helping me, when I've never done anything for you!"

Awkwardly, Brittany placed a hand on Santana's shoulder and tried to console the girl,  
"Uh... It's ok, really. It's fine. Shh... You don't need to cry."

"It's not ok though! I shouldn't have done half the things I've don-"

"Shh! Santana, I forgive you!" Honestly, she didn't know if she did. She was just trying to get her to quiet down, because she had nearlty begun shouting.

"You... You forgve me? Why?" Santana inquired, she seemed completely taken aback, as she had become somewhat silent as her sobs quieted.

"Because everyone deserves a second chance. Now, you go change, ok?" She insisted, pulling Santana to her feet once again, and leading her to the bathroom.

"Careful!" She warned, still keeping her voice low, as the Latina nearly teetered over and fell onto the floor.

"Ok. I'll be out here, try not to fall, take it easy, and if they don't fit, tell me." She instructed, nudging the other girl lightly into the bathroom. Santana nodded, a little dumbstruck from her intoxication level. Brittany pushed the door shut so that everything could be blocked as Santana changed, but not fully shut so that it could be pushed open.  
After a few moments silence, Santana whined something from inside.

"What?" Brittany asked, moving closer to the door. Santana repeated herself, but Brittany only caught bits of what she was tring to say; 'I can't' and 'off'.

"Santana, I can't hear you- is it ok if I come in?"

"Yes."

Reluctantly, Brittany pushed open the door, to reveal Santana standing in the bathroom, leaning against the counter crying quietly.

"I can't get the back undone," She whined, turning her back towards Brittany. Santana was wearing a top with a zipper on the back, that hugged her little frame nicely.  
_What am I thinking?  
_Brittany shook her head, as though she could possibly shaker her peculiar thoughts from her head and get herself to focus.

"Oh, yeah, ok, I can help you with that..." Brittany pushed up her glasses, and tensely began to undo the zipper on the back of Santana's shirt.

"I'm sorry I slushied you today." The Latina murmured almost inaudibly. It was actually a bit of a choking sound.

"Oh... Don't worry about it. Like I said, I forgive you." Brittany bit her lip stiffly, as she struggled to pull the zipper down.

"I still don't get why?" Santana sobbed weakly. Brittany sighed, exasperrated with weepy drunk Santana, "Just don't question it, ok?" She said as she finished undoing Santana's top.

"Turn around," Brittany groaned a little bit as she saw Santana's belt, "I have a feeling you won't be able to undo that either."

Santana turned around and faced her without arguing further. Brittany fumbled with the belt, and that's when the thought (Or maybe the reality?) struck her, and she blushed passionately;_ she was undressing Santana Lopez_. Her crush. The best looking girl at the school. She was_ undressing _her.  
She finished in a hurry, taken aback by her own thoughts.

"Ok! You should be able to handle it from there!" She began to back out of the bathroom, "I'll be in my room, don't fall over!" She nearly tumbled over her words.

"But," Santana interjected, her tears finally drying, and Brittany could see a small, but still visible blush on the girls cheeks, "My bra clasp..."

Brittany's jaw dropped so low she swore it would have hit the ground if she hadn't caught herself.

"You... You can't undo it yourself?" She croaked,

Santana shook her head. And began to cry again, "I'm useless!" She all but wailed.

"Ok! Ok! Shh!" Brittany said frantically, rushing forward again, "Just shut up, will you? My little brother and parents are asleep!"

Santana stiffled her cries as Brittany moved behind her, "'K, Santana, go like this;" Brittany made an 'x' with her arms over her chest, "I don't want to see all... that." Brittany gestured to the Latina's breasts. Santana nodded and made the 'x' position over her chest.

Brittany began to fiddle with the back of the lacy black bra, and found herself having to restrain from touching Santana anywhere else. Her skin just looked so smooth, so touchable, so loveable.  
_Stop that!  
_But that stupid clasp wouldn't come undone. Growing ever more frustrated as her temptation grew; Brittany found an excuse to touch Santana on her rib cage, so she could rest her hand there while she attempted to undo the clasp. The warmth from Santana's skin was relieving- too bad she only felt it for a second; Santana cringed away with a bit of a squeal.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Brittany apologized quickly, "I didn't mean- I just... I needed some support while I tried to..." Brittany rubbed her temples, "Oh, God, I'm sorry- I didn't mean to..."

Santana stared at her with an odd expression; it was... calculation, for lack of a better explanation- with her arms still in an 'x' position.

"It's not that..." The Latina said quietly, before she apologized herself, "It's just... You pressed my bruise. I'm sorry."

"Oh..." Brittany felt a wash of relief come over herself, "My bad- I didn't even see the bruise. Do you still want me to undo your bra?" Santana nodded and shuffled back over to Brittany. She was surprised she hadn't noticed the healing brown bruise on Santana's ribcage before.  
She didn't bother resting her hand for support anywhere else; afraid that she'd rest it on another bruise somewhere else.

"Did you... Did you get it in Cheerios?" Brittany tried to break the newly formed tension.

Santana nodded, tears welling into her eyes again, "Yeah... I fell off the pyramid. Coach Sue works us so hard," Santana sobbed lightly.

Biting her lip as she continued to fight with the clasp Brittany said, "Well, she's Sue. She hates everyone. Don't take it personally." She finally undid the clasp, and then backed away.

"Ok, you're good now, right?" She made sure, still backing out of the bathroom.

Santana nodded as she wiped her eyes on her arm, "Yeah." She ghosted a smile, "You're really bad at that, though."

"At what?" Brittany inquired in alarm. Had she been that obvious with her crush? Oh no, oh no, oh no!

Santana shook her head, "Nevermind. Just... you're bad at undoing bra's."

Brittany gaped and then closed the bathroom door again. She could already tell the other girls drunkeness was starting to wear off, and she'd be crashing soon.

Santana made it out of the bathroom in one piece, but her body was still teetering a lot as Brittany lead her towards the spare bedroom, but it was the intoxication causing her to teeter- mixed with the fact the Latina was nearly falling asleep on her feet.  
By the time Brittany brought her to the other bedroom, and she tucked herself in, she couldn't even ask if she needed anything else the girl was dead asleep so quickly. Thinking about the morning, Brittany found a tub for soaking feet in the nearest bathroom and placed it near the bed, so that when Santana was hurling from her hangover, she would have something to hurl into.  
She felt obligated to stay with Santana for a while, and make sure everything was alright with her. You know, no choking on vomit in her sleep or anything.  
She found herself thinking, as she sat on the foot of the spare bed, stroking Lord Tubbington absently; all her thoughts were Santana, however. What would Santana do when she woke up here? Thoughts like that. And then she reminsced secretly about the two of them in the bathroom.  
Santana shifted beside her, with a sleepy noise, she rolled over rather spastically- Brittany even mildly wondered if Santana was having a night terror, but brushed it off as she looked at the other girls foot which had thrown over her own. She remained stone still for at least thirty seconds, and then heard Santana start to snore softly. That settles it; the Latina was asleep and well. Brittany tried to pull her foot out from under Santana's, stopped herself, and decided to gently pick up the other girls foot so she could gently place it back under the covers. She grabbed Santana's foot as lightly as she could, and once again, was stopped; her ankle had a funny texture about it. It was... crusty.  
What the hell?  
Brittany squinted down at Santana's foot, but the dark obscured her view from anything. Curiosity grew with her uncertainty, as she gently rubbed her thumb over the feeling, trying to decipher it. That wasn't normal...  
She placed Santana's foot back on the bed and carefully, ever so carefully, got off the bed, and it let out a small creak that went unnoticed by the sleeping teen. Brittany tiptoed over to the night table, and pulled open the drawer- cringing at the loud sound it gave off.  
_Please still be in here, please be in here_!  
She, as silently as she could, rifled through the junk in the drawer, striving to find the thing she remembered was always in here-  
She found it.  
_Yes!_

Pointing it at the ground, Brittany clicked the button on the flashlight, and it let off a little ray of light down at the floor. She kept it pointed away from Santana's face as she made her way back to the bed, and shone it on Santana's ankle.  
Five scratches ran along the length of the girls ankle, dried blood crusting as scabs. They seemed generally fresh, a day- maybe two- old.  
Brittany covered her mouth. Why would Santana do this? Is this actually what she had seen on the night of the theatre? Cuts?  
Her heart seemed to implode with sympathy. Didn't people who... didn't people who cut usually have something really bad happening to them?  
Still dumbstruck, Brittany clicked off the flashlight, and let the information sink in as she shuffled back to her bedroom.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: May I just say I love y'all for reviewing so much? :D Anyway, I feel like I must warn you that this chapter and the next are a bit shitty :S I think I may hiatus once I post the next few chapters I have written, just so I can get back into the swing of things but I don't know.. Alrighty, I'm done with chatting for now, hope you enjoy!**

Brittany blinked awake. She had had the strangest dream; she had dreamed she was in the mall, and Tina was forcing her to help her pick out a birthday present for Mercedes. Brittany had been at the card store, looking and laughing at all the silly musical ones.  
Seriously- where had that dream even come from?  
Rubbing her eyes sleepily, she rolled over and burried her face in her pillow. She knew it had been one of those nights; she had stayed up too late, and no matter how long she slept for, it would feel too early.  
She shot straight up; Santana!  
Nearly tumbling out of bed, Brittany kicked her blankets off from around her feet, grabbed her glasses off her night table, and shoved them onto her face. Power walking towards the door, thoughts jumbling around in her head like a kicked hornets nest; was Santana still asleep? What would she say when she woke up? Would she remember anything from last night?  
Brittany froze and turned heel back into her room when she realized what she was wearing; her very unattractive baggy batman t-shirt and grey sweats. She grumbled to herself impatiently as she swung her blanket over her shoulders, and wrapped it around herself in a tight bundle.

More cautious, Brittany opened the guest room door a peek, and leered in to see how the Latina was doing. The girl was still asleep, sprawled all over the bed, not even under the covers anymore. Sleeping, nontheless.  
"You're finally up!" Joel shouted, flying down the hallway at her- the shout causing Brittany to jump.

"Jesus, you scared me, kiddo!" She sighed, "Hey, keep your voice down, by the way. Someone's sleeping in there." Brittany began closing the door.

"There is?" Joel craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the spare room, but she had already shut the door on him.

"Yes." She answered firmly while giving her little brother a nudge to get him to move.

"Who?" The boy asked, furrowing his brow.

"Marie's big sister." She explained, giving him another nudge, "But you'll see her later. Come on, let's go watch cartoons." Joel beamed, and flew back down the stairs. _Geeze, when I was young did I have that energy?_She thought as she slowly followed the boy to the living room downstairs.

"Where's mom and-" This was always weird. She personally called her step-dad by his first name, but to Joel; Garrett was _dad. _"Where is everyone?" She rephrased.

"Dad went to work, and mom went to the store." Joel said. She nodded; the two of them had been watching Fairly Odd Parents for about twenty minutes, and just now she had realized the absence of her parent and parental figure.  
They finished the episode, and then watched another half an hour of Phineas and Ferb. By now, noon had rolled around and her mom finally came through the front door, bags of groceries in her hands.  
"Britt, you're up!" Her mom smiled, although she looked a bit flusterered as she brushed into the living room into the kitchen, "God, is the weather awful out there?"

"Hmm."

"Anyways, dear; is your friend still here? I bought stuff to make pancakes, if she is."

"Mom, she's hungover, she may not want to eat..."

Her mother looked hurt, like it was a terrible crime for Brittany to point something out, "Well, she's got to have breakfast!" The older blonde defended her actions.

"Mom, she might be too sick to have anything besides a watered down oatmeal or something."

"I'm making pancakes anyways, and if she doesn't want to eat them- then fine."

Brittany sighed, rolled her eyes and shook her head, "Fine. I'm just telling you-"

But her mom had stopped listening. Another twenty minutes passed before she decided that she should maybe go check on Santana again; she hadn't even noticed any steps coming from upstairs or the sound of barfing. For all that she knew; Santana had rolled out of bed, hit her head and died.  
What? You never know.  
As Brittany came to the top of the stairs, she heard a creak and saw the Latina's head poke out from behind the door to the spare bedroom.

"Brittany?" Santana furrowed her brow, but an obvious relaxation emanated from the girl as well.

"Uh... Hi!" Brittany waved awkwardly.

"Why am I at your house?" Santana asked suspiciously,

"It's kind of a long story. Well, sort of. Not really."

"You're babbling- what happened?" The Latina deadpanned with a crucial seriousness.

"Well, Kurt was driving me home and we saw you trying to walk home, and he didn't want to drive all the way up to the Plateau, so he just took you here." God, Santana was giving her dagger glare- why? Did she think something... happened? Nothing happened!

"But..." The darker haired girl drawled, "Nothing... weird happened? Nothing out of the usual?"

She shook her head, "Unless you count you wailing about there only being one tulip in the garden and tripping up my stairs- then no, nothing happened."

Santana smirked and leaned against the doorway, "Yeah... When I get real hammered I get weepy. I hope you didn't panic?" The girl raised her eyebrows, but she was smiling in amusement, perhaps even at herself.

"I assumed." Brittany smiled back. The two fell into a hush that wasn't comfortable, but nor was it uncomfortable, however.

"Hey, where are my clothes, anyways?" Santana finally inquired.

"Oh! They're in my room," Brittany took a couple steps, stopped, pushed up her glasses, looked back at Santana with a small flush growing on her cheeks. Santana had quirked one brow, and was staring at her with a curious interest.

"Nothing happened." Brittany assured her, even making a firm hand gesture to prove her point, "That just came out wrong."

"Uh-huh..." Santana didn't sound thoroughly convinced.

"I'm serious!" She tried to guarantee once again.

"Oh, so it's not like we did any oral tests?" Santana mocked innocence. Brittany's jaw dropped. She pointed at Santana, "Ok, _that_was weird." But she kind of liked it.

"You enjoyed the mental image." The Latina rolled her eyes, "Just get me my clothes Bi-Pierce."

Brittany nodded and forcefully made herself look like she was exasperated with Santana's shenanigans. Although, every time she made a witty, defensive, or smart-ass comment, she felt her crush grow a little more. Not nearly as much as the Santana with no walls had, but it seemed like everything made her like Santana more. It was odd.  
Quickly, she scooped up the other girls clothes, and returned them to her.

"Aren't those uncomfortable?" She asked as she passed off the clothes. Santana just shrugged.

"Hey, you want to be a doll and get me some water and a Tylenol, though? My head is killing me." She stated instead. Brittany nodded, she figured by the time she went downstairs, got the water and went back up, then she should be done getting changed.

"Is she up?" Her mother asked as she entered the kitchen, Brittany nodded curtly, "Yeah. She wants some water."

"Did you ask her about pancakes?"

"...No."

Her mom huffed dramatically, "Why not? I don't want to be making pancakes if she doesn't even eat any!"

"A half an hour ago you said you would make some anyways?!" Brittany's patience for this woman was thin, and she was getting on her nerves.

"Don't use that tone of voice with me!"

Brittany just muttered and pressed the glass of a cup against the water dispenser on the fridge. She filled it three quarters of the way full before heading back to the staircase. As she passed through the living room Joel eagerly asked; "Hey Britta- wanna play Mario Kart?" The boy bounced up and down on the couch with the Wii steering wheels.

"I'm sorry, I can't right now- but I promise in a while, ok bud?" Looking a bit crestfallen, Joel nodded his head.

"I'd love to play Mario Kart," Santana stated as she came down the stairs, "Just one round and only if you keep the volume down, ok?" She gave a pointed look at Joel, who nodded enthusiastically.  
Brittany was just gawking at the other girls outfit; last night she hadn't noticed how... revealing Santana's top was, somehow.

"Is that my water?" Santana asked, Brittany nodded, "Yoo-hoo, Bi-Pierce," The Latina snapped her thumbs in Brittany's face, "My eyes are up here."

Shaking her head, Brittany handed Santana the water and looked away, "Uhm, you look cold, want me to get you a sweater?"

Santana narrowed her eyes in question, "No...?" She drawled as she sat down beside her little brother.

"No you should really where a sweater," Brittany hissed closer to her ear; if her mom saw Santana wearing a top exposing that much cleavege, she would flip.

"Why? Your house is roasting."

"_My. Mom. Will. Have. A. Cow. If. She. See's. You_." She enunciated quietly. Santana made a face of realization and remarked, "Well, in that case; it's freezing, I would love a sweater."

"Right! Do you also want pancakes?" She inquired as she started up the stairs.

"No, I don't think I could swallow any food about now."

_Knew it!_

"

Sounds fine!"

Brittany fetched a sweater from her bedroom, the baggiest one she could find; which was, unfortunately, an Avengers Premier Event hoodie. Getting Santana into this would take some persuasion. Not feeling up to that task, she frantically shuffled around in her closet for any other sweater that was baggy, but maybe a little less nerd-i-fied.  
_No, no, no, no..._  
She muttered over and over in her head as she ruffled through the closet. _  
_Once she hit the end of the clothes rack with no other options, she sighed, and dragged herself downstairs; thinking about arguments she could use to get Santana to pull this hoodie over her head.

"Sorry, Santana," She said as she reached the bottom of the staircase, "You're gonna half to where this one."  
Santana glanced briefly over her shoulder, then back to the television screen, where she was racing Joel in Mario Kart.

"Fine." The girl grumbled, "I'll where it if you go get me a Tylenol- you forgot last time."

Wait... Did Santana even see the sweater?

"Wait... Did you even _see_the sweater, Santana?" She made sure while she was in shock.

"Of course I saw the sweater, you moron! Just get me a Tylenol and I'll where the damn thing."  
Still a bit surprised, Brittany placed the red Avengers sweater beside Santana on the couch, before returning to the kitchen to fetch a Tylenol.  
_  
_"Hey mom, Santana says no to the pancakes." She inforned her mother as she opened the medicine cabinet above the fridge. _  
_  
"No?"

"No."

"What?"

"_No pancakes_!" Brittany snapped while brushing out of the kitchen. Hurriedly, she somewhat scuttled back into the living room and took a seat beside Santana on the couch.

"Here you go," Brittany found herself mumbling while she placed the white and blue tablet on the table beside her water.

"Thanks," Santana however didn't take her eyes off the television screen.  
Ugh, there were so many questions she wanted to ask her- but she knew she couldn't ask half of them. Not now, at least.  
She stole a peek down at Santana's feet, but the girls jeans were apparently a little too big as they almost reached her heels.

"Hey, uh... What happened with the Cheerios anyways? I hardly believe the entire team could pass math in five days." Brittany started curiously.

Santana smirked, "Aww, what is it Bi-Pierce? You upset you don't get anymore alone time with me?" She cooed teasingly.

She felt a tiny blush creep up into her cheeks, "Uhh.. No, I was just wondering."

The Latinas smirk stayed as she said more seriously, "It was Sue. She has some dirt on Figgins or something."

"Oh..." She stated quietly as the two finished their racing round, Santana swallowed back her Tylenol with water and tugged the sweater over her head before starting the next race in the round.

All three of them fell into silence. Brittany shifted from watching the screen, to sneaking glances at Santana occasionally. She couldn't help it, no matter how hard she tried to resist- she couldn't stop herself. Santana just had some kind of presence that made her irresistable to Brittany.  
_Wait... Irresistable? Was that really the right word_? She blinked at her own thoughts; _Irresistable. That was the immediate word she used to describe Santana, but was that really it?  
_  
"Oh, by the way," Santana said, thankfully breaking Brittany from her inner questionings, "I finished that comic... It was, uhh..." For a split second, Santana seemed unsure of what to say- making her awkward, "It was good, actually." She admitted.

"Yeah?" She couldn't hide the enthusiasm in her voice.

"Yeah. It was kind of good."

"Do you want to borrow the next one?" She asked eagerly. A little too eagerly, judging by Santana's reaction; the dark haired girl quirked her eyebrow uncertainly, "Uhh... Let's not jump ahead, Blondie. Don't you want your other one back first?"

Brittany felt like slapping herself in the forehead, "Right. Yeah, I do."

"Alright. I'll bring it Mon- _holy crap is that the actual time_?!" Santana nearly dropped the Wii steering wheel. Brittany raised an eyebrow; why did Santana flip about it being nearly one?

"Yeah...?" She drawled unsurely.

"Holy shit!" The girl jumped to her feet, dropping the wheel on the couch. Suddenly, the Latina was a bouncing ball of anxious energy as she started towards the door, and nearly ran to every corner in the room.

"I'm sorry, I got to go," Santana said urgently.

"Huh? Wait, what?" Brittany got to her feet too, "Do you need a ride home? I can get my mom to..."

Santana shook her head, "No! No, it's ok, uhh..."

"What about our game?" Joel whined.

Brittany jumped to answer, "Joel, I'll finish it with you after!" Turning back to Santana she said, "Are you sure? You can't walk home and it's not like Lima has cabs."

Santana stared at her a bit blankly for a moment, "Can I use your phone?"

"Yeah- yeah, you can." Santana's anxious energy was contagious; why was she suddenly so nervous and jumpy? What was so bad about it being nearly one?  
However, Brittany just speed walked into the dining room and snatched the wireless phone off the wall, pretty much throwing it at Santana. Nonetheless, the girl caught it muttered a hasty thanks, and shut herself in the nearest bathroom to talk.

_What the hell is happening? _Was basically the only thought in her head.

It didn't take long until Santana was out of the bathroom, shoving the phone back in her hands and jogging towards the front door.

"Wait, Santana? Where are you going?" She asked.

"I uhh, have a _thing_." Santana was frantically looking around for her footwear, "Where are my shoes?"

Shoes?

"Oh! They're in my room!"

"_Dios_! Get them!" The Latina snapped. Nodding, Brittany shot up the stairs, into her room, grabbed the boots off the ground and went back to the waiting Santana in what seemed like hyper-speed.

"So, is your mom coming here?" She continued to inquire, although now, she was a little short on breath.

"No, I'm meeting her at Jaxon Cafe," She tugged the door open, "And no I don't need a ride there- see you Monday," Santana didn't wait for a response, she shut the door, and Brittany could see her power walking down the driveway.

Leaning against the doorframe, she let herself wallow in her own disappointment at the Latina's hasty retreat.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Hey guys, guess what? Incredibly short chapter update! :S Sorry about that, but guess what else? Next chapter is super long and stuff! Hope you enjoy anyways, loving the reviews! **

Brittany was nervous when Monday morning arrived. She also remained uncertain behind why Santana had left in such a hurry. She considered texting her from the moment she left, but then, she thought; _the only reason I have her number was because I was tutoring her.  
_It was a strange experience of wonders. She such a whirl of emotions that she didn't even know which one to focus on; Uncertainty, everything about Santana screamed uncertainty. Why had she run out? The cuts? Not to mention the whole shift between personalities. Concern, because all those things were something to be worried about. And there was also pure awe; Santana with her walls down was a beautiful thing. Brittany was glad she was able to be in her presence while that happened. She was dorky, and cute, and perfect and-  
Hold up.  
Brittany halted briefly during her walk to school.  
She was getting carried away. God dammit why can't she just ignore her! Why can't she just shake it off and go back to being a nerd who's biggest mindly thought was to keep an eye out for slushies. But no, now her mind had to be consumed by a certain confusing Latin cheerleader.  
Oh, how she wished things would go back to normal. Well, now that she doesn't have to tutor her, she can distance herself, and eventually; the crush would wear off. They all do, given time. Yes. That was her plan. Avoid as much as possible.  
She ran over her plan in her head time and time again, each time with more assurance that that was what she was going to do. And honestly, she was a bit relieved when Quinn Fabray tossed the bright blue slushy into her face; because that was normal. The tears welling up in her eyes as the mush slipped into her glasses was normal. The laughs and the humiliation was normal. Things were finally falling back into place. Maybe.  
She slipped into the closest girls bathroom and began to clean herself off. The two freshmen in the bathroom stared wide eyed, and made their own retreat from the bathroom.  
She sighed, and wet down another piece of papertowel to clean off her glasses; normal.  
The bathroom door opened with a creak, she looked out of the corner of her eye to see who it was entering the washroom, and was a bit surprised to see Santana standing there.

"Hey." The girl greeted quietly, before peeking into each of the stalls unsurely, "Um... I brought you your stuff."  
The Latina held out the folded red sweater, with the first Dead Sight comic resting on top of it.

"Oh, uhh... thanks." She took the things and expected Santana to leave. Hoped she would, because she was trying to get things back to normal.

The Latina didn't move.

"Sorry, I had to run out like that... I had an appointment. Dentist."

"Oh. Well maybe partying the night before wasn't the best idea." She smiled. Dammit. She couldn't help but smile around Santana- stupid crush. Stupid everything.

Santana smiled back, "Yeah... It definitely wasn't the brightest." They fell into a silence as the bell for first period rung. However, neither of them moved. It was peculiar; she felt as if she was rooted there by some kind of strange tension- yeah, part of her screamed for her to leave then, the part that wanted normal. Another part of her was controlling her; the part that screeched for change. That part was stonger.

"I, uhm..." Santana lowered her voice, "I don't know if I thanked you? I feel like I should so... thanks."

"For?" Brittany responded, she was completely lost. She found herself marvelling at Santana once again, so much so she couldn't even piece things together.

"For helping me when I was drunk?"

"Oh. Right. Yeah, no problem." They remained there still.

Santana huffed awkwardly, and shifted a little. Brittany wondered if it was only her feeling the odd tension, like she should remain standing here anyways.

"You're a good person, you know that right?" Santana asked earnestly, "You really need to stop putting up with peoples shit, you don't deserve it."

Brittany shrugged, wholely shocked, "I guess?"

The Latina held her gaze for a few more moments, before nodding curtly and whisking out of the bathroom.  
Brittany stood there, staring down at the things Santana had returned to her, replaying the conversation over and over and over again. What Santana had said, it felt like her little secret. Something she'd hold close to her heart. It warmed her- and certainly didn't help her crush. Her plan.  
So much for normal.

For the rest of the day, she couldn't get over it- no matter how hard she tried. Santana thought she deserved better than people's bullshit.  
The thought gave her goosebumps; did she actually care about her?

"Hey, are you alright?" Sam asked during chemistry class, "You seem... off." He twisted his lips.

"Oh, I'm fine." She assured him, beaming, "Better than fine, actually."

The boy raised his eyebrows, "How come? I mean, why better than fine? What happened?"

Brittany stopped; she couldn't tell him. No, he couldn't know.

"Just in a good mood today." She shrugged nonchalantly, hoping it came off naturally.

"Huh. Probably because you don't have to tutor Santana anymore, right?" He gave his lopsided smile. Instantly, she itched to tell him she wasn't all bad on her own- although she bit her tongue to stop herself.

"Maybe."

"So, I was thinking," Sam went on, "Would you maybe like to go to Jaxon Cafe with me some time?"

She felt her cheeks flush, "Wait, are you asking me out?" She inquired, surprised with the blonde boys out of character question.

"What? No! No, not at all!" He denied, "It's just..." He scratched the back of his head, "I really like the girl that works there, and I need a wing-woman."

"Oh!" She exclaimed, relieved that one of her best friends hadn't just asked her on a date, "Well in that case, sure! Who is she?"

"Uhh... she doesn't go here."

"So wait, Sam are you saying you're going to try to ask out a girl in college or middle school? Hate to burst your bubble but hell to the no I won't let you do that."

Sam laughed, it might have been a nervous laugh but she wasn't sure, "No. No she's home schooled."

"Oh... Alright. I see." She was at ease once again, "So when do you want to go there?"

He shrugged, "I don't know, Thursday maybe? Oh and Britt, your glasses are going to fall off."

She grumbled and pushed up the glasses- then returned to her smiles and nodded.

"Alright. Thursday afternoon, I will be your wing-woman."


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Hey! I know its been a while, I've been really sick, like, the vomit kind... Yeah... So on that note, sorry if its bad, it was literally pretty much written between fevers, so... Hopefully you will all like it! This chapter was written a bit differently; so for clarification, most of the chapter is a 'flashback' for lack of a better word, and we will come around full circle in the mid of the chapter back to where it started at the beginning. Did that make sense? I hope it did. Ok, done now, enjoy! :)**

"Excuse me, but are you like, bi-polar or something?" Brittany snapped at the Latina. Her mood swings finally irritated Brittany too much- and what she had said genuinely hurt.

The week had been askew. Like a roller coaster. Her head screamed normal, but it also clawed at her to seek for difference. See, the thing was, metaphorically; when it was screaming, she could put in earplugs to drown the sound- but when it insistently clawed, there was nothing she could do. So she bent with the claw, and went for different.  
All week long, Santana had been warm and cold more times then she could put up with. It was conflicting- it was _confusing_! But still, she found herself forgiving, wanting to let this girl explain herself- give her a chance.  
On Tuesday, she had brought the second Dead Sight comic to school in hopes to give it to Santana. Brittany was still buzzing from the high Santana had given her with her words at that point. During Spanish, she carefully tapped at the back of the Latina's heels. Santana spun around, irritation rolling off of her in waves.  
"What?" She'd growled. Brittany was instantly regretful for choosing that moment to suggest the book, but went on with it anyways; besides, Santana said she didn't deserve bullshit, right?

"I was just wondering if you wanted to borrow the second book? You said you liked the first." Brittany was respectful enough to keep her voice at a low hush, so no one else could hear. Surely, Santana wouldn't want others knowing she was reading a nerd book.

The darker haired girls features softened, and her voice was with such a kind firmness it felt like a physical kick in the chest, "Yeah. I'd like that." And with that she spun around again.  
Brittany had managed to catch up to after school before the girl loaded herself into Quinn's car. Brittany hastily handed her the book while Quinn was busy talking to Puckerman. Santana smiled, said thanks and hid it in her bag.  
She had smiled the whole way home, so long that her cheeks were sore. She felt ecstatic. She felt like she was maybe friends with Santana, in their own strange way- like it was their little secret.  
On Wednesday while Brittany was putting her books away into her locker, preparing to walk home for lunch- she had two slushies dumped on her head, that dripped down her back. That wasn't surprising. But what hurt her was when she heard the laughs; Quinn and Santana.  
She looked up through her glasses, seeing the two of them in hysterics. She felt like she was in denial. She felt like that couldn't be happening; they were kind of friends,weren't they? She had searched for something- anything- in the Latina's eyes as she laughed. Some regret, something to slip up and give it away as fake laughter. She found nothing.  
Thursday rolled around and Santana wasn't giving her any attention at all; not negative nor positive. Like she was a ghost. Invisible. Not there.  
Brittany both enjoyed it and found it aching at the same time.  
She had gone with Sam after school to Jaxon Cafe. He had pointed out the girl he was crushing on; she was pretty, wavy brown hair that was pulled in a ponytail, except her small bangs that were over her forehead. She acted as good as a wing woman as she could; once she introduced them, they had chatted while she was on her break. Brittany bought herself a coffee and sat alone at one of the cream colored round tables near the window. Sam was quite cute when he was nervous. She could see from where she was sitting her was trying to do some kind of impression- and she was giggling. Not harshly. That was obvious by the flush in her cheeks and how sparkly her eyes looked.  
Someone tapped her shoulder, "Care if I join you?" Santana had asked.  
It was Brittany's first impulse to say yes- but she caught herself and attempted to give the Latina a suspicious glare. It was her hopes to make Santana feel bad.  
The girl had chuckled lightly and rolled her eyes, taking a seat across from Brittany anyways.

"I didn't say you could." Brittany muttered unhappily.

"Well, I am anyways." Santana had retorted, blowing on her coffee to cool it down.

"Well, I think I might move then." She grumbled and began to rise from her seat. She was still hoping to bring Santana on a guilt trip.

The girl quickly grabbed her hand gently holding it where it was, "Wait," Santana insisted. Brittany felt the little crackles of electricity spark on her skin when their hands touched. It was beautiful. Santana's hand was so soft and warm.  
She slowly sat back down,

"What?" Brittany made an effort to sound short tempered.

"I wanted to say I was sorry for slushying you yesterday. You didn't deserve it."

"Then why did you do it?" She had countered quickly, "I mean, _you_ said I didn't deserve bullshit- yet _you're_the one delivering it to me."

"I know. Would you believe me if I said I tried to convince Quinn that slushying Wheelchair Boy would be funner than slushying you?"

"Don't talk about Artie like that."

Santana looked down into her coffee- the look almost looked like remorse.

"Brittany you don't understand what it's like to be a Cheerio," Santana said slowly,

"Oh you're right I don't. Sauntering around the school tossing slush in the faces of the poor kids that already get enough crap must be _so hard_, isn't it?"

"I'm trying to do the right thing!" Santana hissed, "Give me five fucking minutes to explain myself."

She wasn't entirely sure why her anger at Santana built. Most of her wanted to bend- sit back, forgive Santana and let her restart. A more powerful part of her wanted to yell at her just for the sake of all the confusing turmoil she had put her through in the last week and a half. She wanted to make Santana feel bad.

"No, Santana!" She said as forcefully as she could without yelling, "That's the thing; you shouldn't _have_to be explaining yourself!" She stood up, and Santana lunged for her hand again,

"Please!" The Latina begged quietly, "You don't think I don't feel like shit? Judge me after I try to make things better, at least, ok?"

Disgruntled, she slid back into her chair.

Santana sghed, "Fabray just handed me the slushy. She said we were gonna go slushy a nerd, I asked who- and I really did try to convince her to go slushy Cri- Artie. I tried to convince her that we should get Artie instead, and she started going off about... stuff. Pressuring me into hitting you with the slushy, alright? So I did. And I'm sorry."

"What kind of stuff?" She deadpanned.

"Just basic crap. You know, the things that people say when they're trying to pressure people into doing things they want."

Brittany raised her eyebrows; that had been no proper response.

"It's not important. Just... I'm sorry."

And there it was again- her anger subsided, and her impulses kicked in;

"I forgive you."

Santana smiled, "Thanks. I feel bad for always giving you shit- so I'm going to try to make it up to you."

Make it up to her? She quirked an eyebrow, interested, but... well, this was Santana- what did she have in mind to 'make it up to her'?

"I have a feeling you've never been to a party before?" The girl had asked.

"Party? No, oh no- Santana, I can't go to a party."

Santana rolled her eyes, "Pierce, loosen up- we're seniors, and you've never been to a party. Trust me on this, Finn is throwing the party- so obviously, it's not going to be crazy. He refuses to have pot in his house 'cause it will stink things up and his mom will murder him. So, it's strictly an alcohol party- it will be pretty tame."

"Santana, I'm flattered, but-"

The Latina had ignored her resistance, and pushed on with her offer; "I promise you; you will go under the watchful eye of yours truly," Santana pointed at her self for a moment, "And, I will make sure no one gross like Karofsky comes onto you, and if anyone dare remarks about you, I will personally give them a night of hell. Deal?"

She twisted her lips, "Santana, I can't go to a party," She had tried to tell her.

"Brittany, come on! Trust me on this one!" Santana had used her name. Her actual name! That, that small thing- made her bend (Something she seemed to be doing a lot of lately), Santana was going on, "You'll enjoy yourself, I guarantee! Listen to some music, get a little bit drunk-"

"I'll go." She cut Santana off.

"You will?"

She nodded. Santana grinned, ear to ear, a gorgeous smile.

It wasn't long before Sam had returned to the table, looking confused as to why Santana was there. He avoided her gaze and inquired if she was ready to go home; she was.  
That night, she had scraped around her room for anything decent to where- she was frantic when she realized, in fact; she had no idea what to where. Not even an idea where to start!  
She thought back to what Santana had worn, and used that as a jumping off point- she luckily owned a couple of nice pairs of skinny jeans; so she grabbed her best pair. Now, Santana had worn some kind of corset, and Brittany definitely wasn't comfortbale with wearing something like that. Digging into the back of her drawers, she tossed out shirt after shirt; each was some kind of graphic t-shirt or tanktop. When she reached the darkest corners of her drawer, she pulled out several blank shirts. For once, she was happy her mom insisted she owned a couple of normal shirts. She yanked a plain white one over her head; it had a tiny 'v' neck, and it had obviously shrunk since it was first purchased, because it rode up her stomach a tiny bit, exposing some midriff.

It would have to do.

On Friday morning, her stomach crawled and crept with bitter nervousness- she considered backing out, it would be better that way. She could only see disaster arising from going to such an event, after all.

"Oh, quit being a baby and stop worrying." Santana groaned as Brittany swallowed the nerve to confront her about it during the transition to first and second period while the Latina was alone, "You're in good hands with me!"

Brittany snorted doubtfully, and pushed up her glasses.

The day drug on, and she decided not to pester Santana about it more- suck it up and just go, even just for a half an hour so the girls efforts to make better weren't fully tossed aside.

"Britt, I can't thank you enough for being my wing-woman yesterday," Sam thanked during Comic book club.

"Oh, yeah, my pleasure. It worked out then?" She had asked the blonde boy.

"Sorta. I'm taking her to the movies tonight- after Dead Sight, of course."

She nearly jumped from her seat- right! Dead Sight. Maybe now she would have a reason to skip out...?  
Remembering she had Santana's number, she fired off a sneaky text, making sure Sam didn't see who it was to or what it said;

_What time's the party?_

Santana had buzzed back quickly; _9. I take it you're walking?_

I don't know where Finn lives...

Not far from you- down on Birch. Surely you'll be able to tell which house it's at.

She was surprised; it wasn't actually far. It was in the subdivion across from the school, while her house was on the subdivision to the right.

Dead Sight took her mind off of the party briefly, but when reality returned, she knew she had to go. She changed and straightened her hair with butterflies in her stomach, frets buzzing around in her skull like angry hornets. They were annoying, and couldn't be swatted away.  
Thankful that this late October night didn't bring rain, she informed her mother that she would be walking to Tina's for the night. Knowing her mom, she would believe her- and it really was in her best interest to be home anyways.  
The walk there felt more like a walk down judgement lane; what would happen at the party would be a mystery- would it go down well, or would it be a disaster zone? There were countless possibilities, really.  
Each one made her more angsty than the last.  
Santana had been rigtht; the house _was_ easy to spot; it was noisy and all the lights were on. Honestly, it didn't look like a proper house to have a party in; it was only one story...  
As she approached the house more, she saw the large backyard, which where a large majority of jocks and Cheerios were hanging out; some had exchanged their uniforms for actual clothes, others remained fully dressed in their outfits.  
Her butterflies felt like they transformed to worms as she opened up the door; she was expecting the party to stop and everyone to stare, questioning why she dare join them.  
Hardly anyone paid any notice.  
And them poof- Santana was there.

"So you didn't chicken out?" She teased, "I was expecting you to."

"I almost did." She confessed, while she was mesmerized- but tried not to stare- at the girl; she was wearing a beautifully tight red top, leather jacket and mercifully close fitting jeans with flats. In all honesty, it wasn't anything special for Santana. Maybe it was the light or something; but damn, she looked good...

"Well, you're here now! Let's get you a drink!"

_Drink? Booze_? She swallowed; she'd never had a sip of alcohol, either.  
It was a little overwhelming, as Santana lead her by the arm through Finn Hudson's house to the kitchen, to see couples making out and practically having sex on random pieces of furniture. They were loud, and a bit wobbly.

"How is everyone already so drunk?" She mused aloud, gawking around while Santana fiddled with drinks.

"Because the party started an hour ago."

"What?" Brittany checked the clock on the stove; 9:12.

"Yeah, I told you to come an hour later. That way, if anyone was going to dick around, they'd mostly be tipsy enough to not question it now." She handed Brittany a shot glass full of a see through liquid; vodka, she knew that, "See! I'm making up for my shit..." Santana mumbled. Brittany grinned; warmed by her actions.

"Alright," Santana grinned and had held her drink into the air, "To your first party!" The Latina reached forward and clinked her glass with her own, then chugged it back. Brittany just looked at her glass sceptically.

"Come on, drink up!" Santana nudged her.

Here goes nothing she convinced herself, and swigged back her own.

Santana hooted, "Alright! You want a beer?"

"Uhm... ok." She was still grimacing at the burning after taste of the straight vodka, "But hey, Santana," She started unsurely. The Latina quirked her an eyebrow over her shoulder, "Uhm... You're not going to get too drunk, right? Just to make sure I'm ok and stuff, right... Like, so I don't get raped or something?"  
The darker haired girl laughed as she cracked a can of beer and handed it to her.

"Wow, Bi-Pierce, you really need to loosen up."

"Seriously! What if someone like JBI tries to go for me or something? You wouldn't be much help if you were off in a corner sobbing about the murder of tomatoes to make ketchup." She whined.

Santana rolled her eyes, "Ok, I over did it that night- I only get weepy when I'm really drunk. And fine- if it'll put your blonde head at rest, I'll stick to your side and if my head starts feeling fuzzy- I'll switch to water."

She smiled, "Thanks, it's just you know- my first part-"

"Yeah, yeah!" Santana held up her hand and cut her off, "Can we ditch the yapping and start having fun now?"

So they did. At first Brittany was still uncomfortable, but Santana's loyalty at her side loosened her up after a while. The two of them played pool in Finn's multi-purpose room, and even when Puck started coming onto Santana, she snarled and told him to go screw someone else. She was pretty sure he did.  
Another two beers later, she felt blurry, and even hobbled a bit, Santana had laughed and encouraged her to drink some more. Laughing, she did a shot with Finn just because she could.

At some point she lost her glasses, that worried her at first- then she shook it off.

"Pierce, what're you doing?" Santana chuckled as the two of them stood in the multi-purpose room once again.

"Nothin'. It's hot in here," She explained as she pulled her shirt up over her head and tossed it onto the floor without care. Someone somewhere wolf-whistled, and she grinned.

"Ah. So we've discovered what kind of drunk you are," Santana had remarked, "A stripper drunk. Classy. Where'd you get your abs anyways?"

She shrugged. Who cares?

Later that night Finn tried kissing her, she wanted to kiss back, but Santana yanked her away.

"Hey!" Brittany had shouted, upset with her, "What did you do that for? We were gonna kiss!"

"I'm keeping my word and making sure you don't get raped." Santana explained with a roll to her eyes. But Brittany didn't care anymore, she had her attention focused elsewhere.

"And apparently," The Latina sounded exasperrated, "I need to watch out for myself now too," She gently placed her hands under Brittany's chin and guided her head up, "My eyes are up here, Bi-Pierce. We've had this talk before."

"Right."

They took more shots. By now, absolutely nothing made sense whatsoever. Nor did it need to. All she needed to know was... was... nothing. She didn't need to know which way was up, or down- or boy or girl- or left or right. They were all the same as the world around her did looping spirals.  
Soon enough, she was falling in every direction, and Santana was there to pick her up, giggling every time.  
Brittany was upset when the house began to fill out, and Santana told her it was time to go home.  
She couldn't even stand straight, so during the walk back to her house, Santana had to keep her upright by having one arm wrapped around her waist, the other around her shoulders. She smelled good. Roses, maybe. If that's what roses smelled like?  
Santana had also given her her leather jacket, considering Brittany's shirt was long gone.

"San, it's cold outside!" She whined, as they made their way down the dark street.  
She didn't reply.  
What Brittany said reminded herself of something; a song...

"It's too cold outside..." She tried to sing drunkenly, but realized she knew none of the other lyrics, so she just hummed the tune. Santana chimed in under her breath.  
Damn... what were the lyrics...?  
She searched and searched, as she hummed along... God, she knew this! But what was it?  
Or just the lyrics after 'it's too cold outside'... She could live with remembering that...  
"_It's too cold outside, for angels to fly_!" She wailed in the dark streets as the two lines connected and she remembered the other lyric.

"Jesus Christ, Brittany! Be quiet or someone will call the cops on us!" Santana barked. Brittany was taken aback, and a bit hurt by Santana's abrupt outburst, "San... why are you yelling at me? We were like, _best_friends a minute ago...?"

Santana had laughed dryly and they halted walking in the middle of one of the roads in her subdivision.

"Us? Best friends?_ Hell _no. We are definitely not on the same social status- and I don't have best friends, that's not my thing. Too much effort. Also, do you actually think I _like_ you?" She threw her head back in laughter again, "Feel sorry for you? Yeah, I feel sorry for you. But I_ don't _like you."

Brittany shook her head, tears had begun to brim in her eyes, "You're lying." Whether she was trying to convince Santana or herself- she had no idea.

The Latina held her gaze with ice in her dark eyes, "I'm not." She had responded.

"You are. You said-" She broke off, her hurt giving away to anger, "Fine." She shrugged off Santana's stupid jacket, nearly toppling over as she did so, but she caught herself, and she threw it at Santana. There was an instant cool chill on her skin from the air outside; but she didn't care; her fury seemed so boiling hot it warmed her up.

"You know what Santana? I don't know what terrible thing happened to you to make you so bitter- and I tried to put up with you, I did, I really did!" She shouted, "But I am so done now. I'm done trying. Have a nice life." She tried to wobble away, but couldn't make it three steps before she stumbled over.  
Groaning in frustration at her own intoxicated handicap, she brushed off her knees.

"Let me help you," Santana had said softly, making a move towards her on the ground.

Yes, it was that chain of events that had lead up to her shouting at Santana about her being a bi-polar.

"Excuse me, are you like, bi-polar or something?" She snapped once again, refusing to take Santana's outstretched hand, "Did you not hear what I just said?"

_Go! Go away! _

"Britt, you're going to kill yourself if you try to walk home. Please let me help you." Santana's voice shook as she gently placed her fingers on Brittany's bare shoulder. She swatted them away. She didn't want Santana to touch her- because it _hurt. _It was a physical ache when she touched her, and it sent her mind into emotional hurt.

"I'd rather die then." She muttered, pushing herself to her feet and cautiously taking slow steps down the road.

"Please? Please, Britt, I didn't mean it- I'm sorry." Santana pleaded, Brittany could hear the other girls shoes making thuds behind her on the pavement.

"Sorry doesn't count." She childishly retorted. _Not when you've heard it a million times... _

"Well then please listen! You don't even have to look at me- just listen, please. I just don't get it..."

"Get what?" She asked venomously, concentrating intensely on not toppling over.

"I..." Santana choked on the word; a sad little sound that fell from her mouth, "I'm confused."

"With what?" She continued sourly.

"You."

Halting, Brittany turned to look at Santana incredulously, "_You're_ confused with_ me_?"

Santana nodded.

"You're fucking kidding me, right?" Brittany inquired flatly.

She shook her head, even in the dim light she could see Santana blinking rapidly and looking at the ground.

"Why?" Brittany had shifted to curious, although within there was still a part of her that was seething.

Santana shrugged, shook her head and laughed humorlessly at the same time; "Uhh... Because I like you."

Brittany furrowed her brow, "Ok, so why aren't we friends then? No one at school has to know?"

"No, Britt, you don't," Santana finally met her gaze again, blue eyes locking with brown, "I_ like _you."

"Yeah, I know, you just-" She broke off. Had she heard her right? She hadn't obviously, right?

"Pardon? Did you just say you... _like_... me?" Brittany echoed uncertainly, fully turning around so she faced Santana, and she wasn't just looking over her shoulder at her.

Santana bit her lip, "Yeah."

_This isn't real. _She thought as she looked up at the night sky; _this is a joke, this isn't happening._

"Say something, please?" Santana pleaded, Brittany rubbed her forehead; she was at a loss for words, and she didn't think it was from the alcohol.

"You mean it?" She finally inquired, taking her glance from the stars and looking back at Santana. The girl peeked the tiniest smile.

"Yeah. I mean it." A smile cracked on her own lips.

Santana's eyes stared down at the pavement for a moment, before looking back up at her; the small smile gone from her face, her expression serious; "I need to ask you for a favor, ok...?"

**Bwahahaha sorry for leaving you on a cliffhanger :3 Ps. If any of you out there are wondering what song Britt was trying to sing drunkenly, it was the A Team by Ed Sheeran. **


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Hey guys! Sorry, that was a really long update! Unfortunately, I have some more bad news, my internet connection will be down for the rest of December, :/ so this will be the last update before the new year. So don't worry, this story is not abandoned- I repeat; NOT ABANDONED. Alright. Now that you know that, enjoy, and sorry again for the wait!**

Numbly, Brittany nodded. Shock was coursing through her veins; shock. Adrenaline. Booze. She was ready to do any goddamn favor Santana wanted.

Santana twiddled her thumbs awkwardly, for once looking as uncomfortable as Brittany felt on a daily basis.

"First, you might want this back," The girl held out the leather jacket once again, and Brittany snatched it up; eager to hear the girls favor. Brittany put it on and wrapped it around herself, "The favor?" She repeated.

"Right." Santana said tightly, still avoiding her gaze. Just tell me!  
Seconds that passed seemed like eternities; she wanted to hear now. Because whatever it was, she would do it. She just needed to hear it- it was like a physical rope around her throat in anticipation. But, she allowed Santana to catch her words.  
And when Santana did, they tumbled out of her mouth in a jumbled, nervous mess;

"Kiss me, just once- please?"

The words sent a flutter and a flare from her toes to her head. Instantly, she felt her heart skip a beat, and her head rush.  
She nodded dumbly. But she wasn't sure; does she just go for it?  
She was stiff as she reached, what seemed like blindly, for the Latina; she hesitantly placed her hands on the small of Santana's back, and gave her a little pull towards herself. The girl obliged to the pull without question.  
Brittany's own thoughts seemed to have been sucking her into slow motion; to the reminders that the last time she had kissed someone, it had been sixth grade. The only time she had kissed someone- had been sixth grade. And that was just a peck. What she was going on had been seeing the big epic kiss on television and in books. It didn't do justice to what she wanted to deliver, she wanted to deliver better.  
There was a split second of intimidation as she reminded herself about the number of times Santana had kissed someone; but it was short lived as their lips finally made contact.  
It was so soft- yet so electric. That was all she expected it to be, and truthfully- she was content with it. Brittany felt as if she could fade away to the feeling of her lips on Santana's into a blissful eternity.  
In fact, she had gotten so carried away in the kiss, that she gasped when the (until now) unresponsive Santana pressed her lips harder into her own, squeezing her body closer to Brittany's- closing any and all space between them.  
She surprised herself when instinct, perhaps, took over and she parted her mouth, allowing the other girl more access. Santana instantly took jump on the oppurtunity, and deepened the kiss powerfully as she ran her tongue along Brittany's bottom lip. She moaned at the briefest sensation, but was cut short as she nearly toppled over at Santana pressing all her weight into her.  
The cool air of the night was suddenly like razors at her stomach as the Latina's body heat was ripped away from her and she teetered backwards, before catching herself from falling.  
Seconds seemed like eternity as the only sound that filled the empty air was the two of them catching their breath. Shivering, she hugged the leather jacket closer to herself; although it did nothing compared to the heat that radiated off of Santana's body.  
Brittany felt like asking; Now what? But there was something telling her not to.

"Uh... That was..." Santana croaked, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly.

"Good?" She put in hopefully, "Was I good?"

Brittany could see Santana smile in the dark, "You weren't that bad- for someone who has obviously had not an impressive range of experience."

"Hey! You don't know that!" She said defensively, causing Santana to giggle.

"Yeah, I do- because you're you!" Santana held out her hand, "Now, c'mon, let's get you back to your house,"

She pretended to huff dramatically as she took Santana's outstretched hand, and allowed the other girl to lead her back down the streets to her house- after getting lost once in the dark.  
When they arrived at her driveway, Brittany turned to Santana;

"Are you going to stay? Cause you can."

"Uhm..." Santana dropped her gaze to the ground.

"San, come on, you can't try to walk again," She nudged Santana playfully, "And don't tell me you have another dentist appointment- because that would totally be lying."

"Fine. Alright I can stay." There was an apparent reluctantance to her words, but such a firmness to her voice that Brittany brushed aside the former hesitancy.  
Beaming, she tugged Santana inside, hushed her although she was quiet- and then the Latina helped lead her up the stairs because her off-balance wobbling got about five times worse when she was trying to escalade the staircase.  
The very sight of her bed reminded her of how exhausted she really was; and it made her shoulders drop in hope for a long, dark, relaxing sleep.

"You can sleep in whatever you want," Brittany yawned, trudging over to her bed, waving her hand half-heartedly at her dresser. She only wanted to collapse on her bed.

"And wherever you want." She added.

Brittany stretched out on her bed, every single one of her muscles crying to fall into a deep, replenishing sleep. She yawned again at the thought.

"G'night, San." She mumbled into her pillow, and shut her eyes to the light in her bedroom.

"Oh, Britt- trust me, hold on-" Santana pulled her back up.

"Whaaat?" She whined.

"I know you wanna go to sleep- but trust me; those jeans will not feel good in the morning," She gave her a tap on the knees to highlight her point of 'jeans', before going on, "Neither will those shoes. Or that push-up."

"You tryna' get in my pants, Lopez?" She grumbled, scowling at Santana unhappily; she was getting in the way of her sleep. And Brittany enjoyed having a love affair with her sleep.

"Well," The Latina sighed, prompting her to her feet, "You've helped me out of mine before," She quirked an eyebrow, "Now will I have to pull your pants down or will you be able to manage while I change?"

She had a impulse to ask for help, but instead she just shook her head and began to wiggle out of her pants, watching Santana riffle through her drawers looking for something to wear.

When it came down to it all, they both changed- with a bang of frustration, Santana did so in the bathroom. She secretly hoped to give her a few sneaky glances, but the bathroom door blocked her hopes altogether. She was done before Santana, and with exhaustion wearing down on her limbs, she started to not care for anything but the bed, so she didn't bother waiting as she crawled in udner her covers.  
Brittany wasn't sure how long she had been in her warm cocoon of blankets; all she knew is that she was half asleep when she heard the bathroom door open, and the sliver of light cutting through the dark was only interrupted by Santana's silhoutte briefly as the girl slipped out carefully, turning off the light in the bathroom as she did so. Brittany also didn't pester heself with wondering where Santana had gotten to in the dark of her bedroom; whether she had settled down on the floor, left for the spare bedroom or whatever.  
Both of those options were erased as the bed shifted slightly, and a warm body crawled up next to her.

"'Night." Santana whispered.

"'Night." Brittany repeated when she felt Santana's foot brush against hers. It was like a sluggish connection; in fact, it took so long to recall the thought to words that Brittany wondered if she would be inquiring into the empty air as she asked sleepily, "Hey San? I saw those cuts you have on you a couple times. What are those? Why do you have them?"

The bed shifted lightly. And there was silence. Brittany let the silence settle for a long while, struggling to keep her eyes open, before giving up. San was asleep.

"They're nothing Britt, I promise. I promise there's no more."

Keeping her eyes closed, she asked, "Pinky promise?"

"My Pinky promise's." She could hear the other girls smile through her words.

"That's good."

And hopefully, it was.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Hey! I told you my internet was going to be down (I thought until January) but turns out, its up again! Ok, so, warning; the next few chapters are going to be kind of short, but I promise there's a long one coming up soon! Enjoy! :)**

Brittany woke with the feeling like two thumbs were jamming into her temples- hard. Her head was foggy and her mouth was dry.  
Hungover. Right. Her first hangover.  
Grumbling, she reached over when what had woken her up finally computed; her phone on her bedside table vibrating insistently. Wiping sleep from her eyes, she pressed the answer button and held the phone to her ear;

"Hello?" She asked groggily, all the while being cautious not to wake the sleeping body next to her._ Santana_; she didn't remember exactly how Santana got here, but didn't inquire about it, due to the fact that they were both fully clothed she figured nothing happened.

"Britt? You sound tired?" Sam said with an unusual amount of suspicion in his voice. Rubbing her sandpaper tongue over her lips, she thought over a response carefully;

"Yeah..." She tried to chuckle naturally, "I uh... I over did it last night; reading. You know how I get if I stay up too late."

"...Right." He answered gruffly. Brittany paid no notice.

"So, why are you calling?" She felt like throwing up, but pushed past the feeling.

"I was just on Facebook, and I saw a photo of Finn's party last night- and I thought I saw you in it... But I wasn't sure..."

_He knows!_

Panicked, she made an effort to stay calm and act nonchalant; "What? Sam what would I be doing at a part-"

"Who the hell is that?" Santana muttered angrily, giving her phone a death glare through her sleep- messed hair.

"Who's that?" Sam echoed Santana's question. Angry, she shot a look at Santana,

"No one." She nudged the girl in the ribs.

"Brittany, I heard someone."

"Sam, there's no one here," She insisted. Santana snorted, and she pressed on, "You must have heard the TV."

"Do I still sound like a TV, Trouty Mouth?" The Latina called obnoxiously, causing her to get a kick in the shins.

"Brittany, is Santana at your house?"

"No, no," She didn't even know why she was lying!

"Yes." She corrected.

"You _were _partying weren't you! What the hell, Brittany? You're not supposed to be partying with jocks and cheerleaders- let alone Santana! What the hell, and you didn't even tell us?"

"I didn't tell you because exactly this would happen." She grumbled, moving the phone a little bit farther away from her ear because Sam's sudden yelling wasn't helping her headache.

"Why?" Sam asked, "Why'd you go out and party?"

"Because it was Santana's form of an apology for being a dick."

"Vagina, actually," Santana butt in.

"For being a vagina." She rephrased.

"You could've said no. And you still could have told us- we would've come with and held your hair or something!" The boy said stubbornly.

"I tried saying no, and I knew I'd get a lecture very much like this one if I told you- and then you guys would have chained me to my house." She cast a sideward glance at Santana whom was currently rolling her eyes making the 'yap yap yap!' sign with her hand.

Another irritated nudge.

"But-" Sam started, Brittany cut over him, "Trust me Sam- I don't have any future plans for partying again," Santana's eyes widened in curiosity, "I don't really enjoy the feeling of my blood drowning in alcohol. At least not the feeling the next morning, that's for sure."

"You certainly liked it last night," Santana sighed in that 'I've got a secret' tone, sitting up.

Something that seemed physical struck her in the stomach and she swore she felt herself pale, "What?" She asked.

"What?" Sam echoed.

"What- what did I do?" She prodded Santana for answers, "C'mon," She begged, "You can't just say something like that and then keep your mouth shut- you got me all worried. What happened?"

The Latina smirked, "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Brittany deadpanned.

"Nothing- nevermind." Santana rolled over.

"Got to go, Sam," She didn't wait for a response as she clicked the 'end' button, and then fumbled around for her glasses.

"You lost them somewhere at Hudson's," Santana lazily propped herself up on one arm, evidently knowing what she was searching for.

"My glasses?" She made sure she and Santana were on the same page.

"No, your balls- what the fuck do you think?" The girl stated with heavy sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"Shit!" Brittany muttered; this meant she'd have to find an old pair or stick some contacts in her eyes until she could buy a new pair her prescription.

"D'awww, is little Bi-Pierce gonna be as blind as a bat until she can get a new pair?"

"Yes, I am!" She gave Santana a push once again in frustration, "Anyways- seriously, did something happen when I was drunk? How drunk did I get? I feel like crap."

"You were pretty wasted. We found out you're a stripper drunk! Exciting, isn't it?"

"Stripper drunk? Holy shit - was I naked?"

"Not quite. Auntie Sanny kept little baby Bi-Pierce out of harm, like I promised."

She did remember that promise.

"Is that all that happened?"  
Santana twisted her lips in thought.

"I think so."

"You _think _so?"

"Well, to be honest I lost you a couple times."

She nudged Santana- for the fifth time, "Santana!" She half whined half scolded.

"What? There was a lot of people there!"

"What if Puckerman felt me up or something- you know he's a pig!"

"A pig that's my fuck-buddy, thank you very much." Santana grumbled, but then continued with that 'on the bright side' tone to her voice while Brittany grimaced in disgust at the mental image, "At least I can guarantee it would have been over the bra, because at no point in time were you_ completely _topless, or pantsless."

"Oh, so reassuring." Now she just felt like giving Santana a hard time, although she was almost entirely convinced by Santana. Almost.

"Would you like me to make you throw up? Being experienced in the hangover world, I know small things can set you off; and I think my morning breath may be the thing that can- so shut up and admit the fact that last night was the night of your life." Santana said flatly as she quirked an eyebrow in expectation.

"I don't even remember half of last night, honestly." Brittany admitted.

Laughing, Santana replied, "That's how you know you had fun!"

She bit her lip; part of her was happy about how she had seemed to have had fun. But another part, perhaps a larger part, was stagnant about the actuality that she couldn't remember anything that happened; and if she had been as wasted as Santana said- and surely Santana hadn't been very sober either- Brittany felt directionless about what could have happened at that party. She'd heard the rumors about things that did and could happen...  
Half frantic, with a sick feeling in her stomach she searched and clawed at her memory to recall things that happened; she remembered playing pool... and... and she remembered taking a shot with Finn... and she remembered seeing Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford during a fist fight in the backyard.  
But that's all she could recall.

"Did anything memorable even happen? Something really funny... or really crazy?" She asked Santana as she stared at the ceiling, trying to keep her stomach under control as it did flips.

"Not that I can recall, Bi-Pierce. Why?"

"Just wanted to hear..."

Fifteen minutes later, Brittany had to bolt from the comfort of her bed to puke in the toilet eveything that she had eaten or drank last night. Once she had finished hurling, and Santana had quit laughing at her expense, the two drug themselves downstairs to find it deserted for some water.

"Here you go," She groaned, still feeling sick as she handed the other girl one of the tall glasses.

"Ugh, is there any way to get over this quicker?" She mumbled as she sipped her glass, Santana giggled and rolled her eyes, "Tylenol, water, and a semi-permanent position near the toilet."

"Your only advice?"

"Yup."

She took Santana's advice to heart; the girl left not long after that, and Brittany migrated up to her room- not before filling a a one litre jug full of ice and water so she could continue to pour herself a glass of water without having to return downstairs. It also felt like she spent a great deal of her day beside the toilet, vomiting up anything that could be vomited up.  
There was even a point where Sam texted her again; asking if she needed anything, she thanked him- but told him no (not before pledging a solitary guaranteed position of designated driver from now on).  
Her mom didn't suspect a thing, surprisingly! Brittany thought her mom would be all over her, like white on rice- but nope. Even Joel was leaving her alone.  
As she lay in bed, watching The Help for about the millionth time, something came back to her, and she couldn't help but smile at the memory; when Puck began to hit on Santana, and she told him to screw off and find another girls leg to hump. He wasn't seen the rest of the night.  
Maybe Santana did keep her promise, even _if_ she _did _lose her a couple times.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Alright guys! One more short storybuilding chapter! :) I feel this one is... choppy. No matter how much I edit it, so sorry about that, but next chapter is really good, that's a promise! :D Y'all are great, by the way! Enjoy!**

Monday morning slid over the horizon, and Brittany felt significantly better- the dry feeling in her mouth was gone, along with the clench in her stomach. Last night, slowly, snippets returned to her from her drunken fiasco. Nothing of particular importance, but the fact that small things were returning to her conscious mind was reassuring.  
She got ready as usual, and peeled an orange on her way to school; she'd even slipped the third Dead Sight book in her bag; considering how fast Santana had read it last time.  
Sam had also promised to keep the drunk story a secret- he had even devised a plan to say, if one of her friends see the picture and question it- that his cousin had even drove in from the city to go to the party; since the two of them shared a resemblance, saying he had a cousin that looked quite a bit like her wasn't completely far-fetched.  
Yes, she had that feeling; that feeling that today was going to be a good day. As long as Santana wasn't hot and cold again- but she said she would stop doing that; the party was her own form of an apology. Things would be better now, she knew it- even if she was forced to have to wear her contacts and blink about ten times more than usual.  
She tossed the orange peels into the garbage can in front of the school, and made her way through the parking lot with a small inner buzz, but she still tried to stay as invisible as possible; she didn't want a slushy- not yet at least.  
To her success, she made it into the school without an attack, and even to her locker.  
It took a lot not to hum, to her surprise; humming was something she did when she was particularly happy. Brittany spun her locker combination while singing along to Ed Sheeran's the A Team in her head; this morning it had kind of appeared there, after she hadn't heard it in so long.

"Hey, Bi-Pierce!" Santana called. She stopped dead.  
Slowly, she turned around; she's _not going to do anything, she's not going to do anything; she said she won't do anything!  
_The Cheerio stood there, a small smirk on the corner of her lips and a grape slushy in hand.  
_Shit_.  
She winced; _would slushy stick to her contacts or something?_

"Uhm... Hello? It's easier to talk if you don't have your eyes closed, if you haven't already figured that out?"

"You aren't going to slushy me?" Brittany kept her eyes shut.

Santana let out an irritated noise, "No, I'm not. This is for _me_."

She opened her eyes, Santana raised her eyebrows, and put a hand on her hip.

"Aren't you going to get shunned for talking to me?" Brittany asked nervously, glancing around in the hallways, where a few people were giving them curious looks.

"Christ, you sound like Berry," Santana groaned, rolling her head back for dramatic effect, "Anyways, we have a Spanish assignment together now."

Brittany cocked her head, "We do?"

"No. But I can say we do."

Still bewildered by her current situation, she turned half back to her locker and tugged it open.

Santana rolled her eyes, "Come on," The Latina whispered, moving half a step closer, "I told you I wouldn't be an ass to you. I apologized. Trust me."

"I trust you." She said it a little too quickly, "It's just... unusual."

"I _could_ throw this slushy on you, if it would make you feel better." Santana vocalized, still sounding irritated.

"I'd rather you not." Brittany answered.

"I thought so." _This is so weird_. _They're having a decently normal conversation... at school. _  
Suddenly she felt overwhelmed, and she quickly grabbed what she needed for first period cooking.

"Ok. Uhh." She shut her locker again, turning back to the Cheerio; who was looking at her with raised eyebrows as she sipped from her Big Quench cup;

"Well, I'm going to get to cooking now..." She felt the urge to push up her glasses, but they weren't there, so she just scratched the back of her neck awkwardly.

Santana nodded, and Brittany got on her way; yet again, overthinking and reprocessing this whole transition between her and the girl- but not for more than seven steps, it appears her face ran into a blue iceberg.  
Squinting against the burn in her eyes, she slowly wiped the slush from her face and stole a peek through her lashes to see who her attacker was; Pukerman. Of course.  
The mohawked boy was howling in laughter, all the while looking very satisfied with himself.

"Puckerman- what the actual hell?" Santana growled, stalking up to him.

"What?" He responded. Brittany's heart immediately began to race; was Santana going to stick up for her? What would he say? What would others do? Would people start treating her better? What would happen to Santana?  
Puck prattled on stupidly, "I see you have a slushy, and you were talking to her; did she somehow convince you to not wail on her face with it?" He prodded Santana, still laughing, "Have you gone soft, chicka?"

The Latina looked completely appalled and offended by his words; and then, with a swift movement of her arm; she raised her hand and dumped the remainder of the grape slushy on his head.  
Stunned, Puck stumbled back a couple of steps. With a growing red face, he wiped his eyes, "The fuck?! You b-"

"You got blue on my uniform, you asshole!" Santana snarled, before adding, "And she's my Spanish partner, moron!"

She huffed and turned to face Brittany; "Do you need help cleaning up?" She inquired, with no particular emotion.  
Brittany hesitated a moment; did she want Santana to help her? A slushy facial left a person feeling extremely vulnerable and self-conscious, that's for sure. And she didn't want Santana- her crush- to see her in such a state. It was humiliating, it was slightly traumatizing at times, it was... actually pretty sweet that Santana offered.  
She nodded feebly.

Santana nodded in response, and then shouted at something behind her; "Hey! Lady- Chang!" Brittany looked over her shoulder to see Tina looking like a little frightened mouse under the claw of a greedy cat.  
Slowly, Tina pointed at herself to indicate; _me?  
_"Yeah, you!" The Latina called, "Duh! I mean, how many lady Asians do we have at McKinley? A population of_ you_- now get over here!"

Tina hurried over, her gaze to the floor; like she was being summonded by the Grim Reaper.

"Go help Brittany wash off," Santana waved lazily in the direction of the bathroom, before stalking away once again.  
Brittany let out a tiny puff of disappointment; honestly, she had believed that Santana was making a sincere gesture to help her clean up.  
Maybe it was a start, at least.

Tina lead her by the arm, and the two hastily wiped off the blue melting ice and dye from her clothes, skin, and hair. They had made it just in time for cooking class to start.  
It was a typical class, the jocks and Cheerios left her alone in that class, but as the bell rang Azimio made a conscious effort to bump into her so she almost dropped her binder.  
In advanced chemistry, Sam had informed her all about his most recent date with that girl (Who's name was she learnt was Jazzmin), and it sounded like it had been a success.

"So," He said as class rolled to a close end, "Are you going to tell me anything about that party? In the pictures I saw, it looked pretty epic." He whispered, grinning his big, adorably dorky lop-sided smile.

"Sam, I don't remember much. Santana really made sure I got wasted."

"Well, what do you remember?"

"Uhh..." She blew out air as she scanned her head for what she remembered, "Playing pool... taking shots... Mike Chang and Matt getting into a fist fight... Not much."

"Oh. And you said Santana brought you to the party as... an apology?"

Brittany bit her lip, "Yeah."

"Huh. Well how come she just took you and not the entire school? She's been a dick to everyone."

Brittany felt like she had a little creature on her back that was always ready to jump to Santana's defense; because it jumped.

She opened her mouth to retort; "Well-"

_Wait. Don't make it so obvious._

She took a small breath; "Yeah. Yeah, but, honestly I don't know how she works; and I won't question it." That seemed nonchalant, right? Because, knowing Sam, he will absolutely intervene if he found out she liked Santana.

The other blonde shrugged as the bell rung, and they parted ways to head to their different lockers.  
She halted; _Damn! Is the whole squad down that hall? _She thought as she spotted a abundance of cheerleading uniforms blocking he path to her locker.  
Just as quickly, she tried her hardest to scan all their hands, to make sure none were holding a slushy- or if Santana was among the flock.  
The answer to both questions was a no. But, Quinn Fabray was in the middle of the mass.  
_Perhaps finding an alterior route would be safer...  
_Stiffly, she turned on heel and began back down the hall.

"Hey, _Bi_ttany!" Quinn called sweetly. Strangely enough, the only thing Brittany could think was; _Bi_ttany- _haven't heard that one in a while_.  
Nervously, she chewed on her bottom lip and glanced over her shoulder, frozen in spot. Quinn was giggling, with a smile so wide it looked like it hurt her cheeks- some of the other Cheerios laughed along quietly with her, others just watched in curiosity to see what their head cheerleader was going to do.

"Oh, wait," Quinn drifted over gracefully so the two of them stood a little closer to each other, "You identify with Bi-Pierce now, don't you? My bad. Old habits die hard."  
_What_?  
Casually, Quinn Fabray leaned against the lockers, "I see you changed something..." She made a dramatic look of thought, "No glasses? What happened there?"

"I..." She mumbled to the floor, "...Lost them."

"You lost them? Are you sure?"

Brittany furrowed her brow, "Yeah...?"

"You're sure you aren't _desperately_ trying to look a _tiny_ bit more pleasing to the eye? Because, honey, between you and I-" Quinn leaned in, and Brittany flinched, "It's not working." She whispered, and Brittany bit her lip a little harder; that stung. Verbal attacks weren't very common- the McKinley student body seemed to prefer slushies, probably because it wasn't as personal as a verbal attack, and there would be less emotion on the other end.  
Quinn went on, with that sick gentle tone that inflicted so much damage, "You know what could work, though?"  
Brittany didn't look up, because she felt like if she did, her eyes would start to water; and she would maybe start crying, and then the Cheerios would really have a laugh.

"If you just disappeared already. Do you think you could do that?"

Brittany didn't answer. She just stared down at the small chip in the linoleum floors of the school, trying to keep her hormones from sending her on a emotional rollercoaster.

"Well," Quinn sighed after the next couple moments of silence, "Think on it, alright?"

Still she didn't move a muscle as the squad brushed past her, when she knew they were finally gone, she looked up and took a shaky breath.  
Not such a wonderful day, after all.

Brittany felt like complete shit as she sat down in Spanish after lunch. Sure, she knew she wasn't the prettiest girl, and definitely not the most popular- so not the most liked; she knew that. But hearing someone else say it was an entirely different thing. It made it real. It made it honest.  
She chewed her pen, trying to zone herself out in thought, hopefully into something less negative; but the quicksand of unhappy speculations only pulled her in deeper;  
_Not good enough._  
That was what it could be summed up as, all her different negativities to herself only meant she wasn't good enough. Obvious.  
She sighed, and rested her head on her desk as the bell rang, still no Mr. Schue.  
She hated this feeling. _Inferior. Stupid. Ugly. _  
Delicately enough not to draw unwanted attention to herself, she hit her head against her desk ever so lightly.  
She knew she shouldn't be thinking like this, but it was true.  
_No, it isn't.  
It is_. _  
_Brittany sighed again, and sat back up, conflictions; even Santana's stupid red, white and black Cheerio uniform in front of her pissed her off to no end. She was one of them.  
The girl was leaning over, writing.  
For a split second, Brittany thought she was so lost in her own self-attack that she _had _zoned off and missed notes.  
But there were none on the board.  
Santana turned around in her desk to face her, and Brittany's eyes locked with Santana's deep brown ones. She drifted away for a minute, they were really soft; they were full of compassion; Brittany then realized; Santana knew, and she cared. She was sorry. That was apparent in her eyes alone, although the rest of her face showed no indication; she was speaking solely through her eyes.  
Slowly, Santana slid a folded piece of paper over to her, before turning around again.  
Confused, Brittany picked up the piece of paper, and unfolded it with uncertainty; it was a note;

_**Don't let them say you aren't beautiful- they can all get **__**fucked **__**just stay true to you.**_

She blinked.  
No... what?  
Blinking up a tornado, she read it again, to make sure she had actually read what she just did.  
She did.  
Brittany read it once more because she could, and then she let it process; Santana called her beautiful.  
Trying to hide a goofy grin as her mood did a complete 180, she looked back up, only to see the Cheerio in front of her still watching her curiosly. When their eyes met again, Santana's lips pulled up in a small grin;  
Brittany beamed back.


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Hey! Did you all survive the apocalypse? I hope so! :P Alrighty, long chapter. Sorry if it's jumpy- but I hope you'll like it little apocalypse surviving warriors! :) Enjoy!**

Brittany lay on her bed after school, fiddling with a unicorn figurine in her hands, trailing her finger over the detailed strands of hair and curling horn, thinking things over.  
She was very happy. Happy with the friendship Santana was supplying her with, it was different than her friendships with Kurt or Artie or Sam or Tina. As much as she loved all four of them, and cared for them- she felt like there was something more with Santana. Maybe it was because, every now and again, the girls walls toppled down for her, and she became soft. An emotion Brittany previously thought Santana was incapable of.  
Brittany thought of the note, resting safely in her piggy bank, and couldn't help but compare what her other friends would do if they had witnessed Quinn's verbal attack; They would all be supportive, that was obvious. Kurt would hug her and remind her of all the things he loved about her, as he did when she was feeling low self-esteem; her eyes, hair, cheekbone structure...  
Sam would squeeze her tight and formulate some kind of plan to slushy- or if it had been a guy- punch in the face, that he would need to be reasoned out of.  
Artie was never one for comfort. He would say he thought she was very pretty, and offer to play some Halo and buy ice cream.  
Tina would point out that they were probably just jealous of something, and to try to brush it off- we'll get farther in life than they will.  
But Santana... Santana told her to stay true, she told her she was beautiful, and to just fuck them, they weren't important.  
Of course, the sting of what Quinn said would stay a while. But she would just need to try her hardest to avoid her so her self esteem could rise back up to her nornal level. Which still wasn't very high.

"Britt? Mom wants to know what you want for dinner?" Joel asked, poking his face in through Brittany's door, his round eyes sparkling happily.

"Tell her it doesn't matter to me..." Brittany mumbled in response, then stopped, "Hey, Joel, wait a second,"

Her little brother froze while he was in the middle of turning on heel.

"Yeah?"

Brittany sighed, and sat up, suddenly looking her little brother over with sisterly curiosity.

Joel furrowed his brow, "What?"

"I want a progress report," She smiled at him, letting him know she was snooping.

"What?" He repeated, blank on what she was asking.

"Marie," Brittany clarified, "How are things going with Marie?"

Joel frowned, the sad looking puppy expression took over his face, "She still doesn't notice me..."

"Are you taking my advice on being a gentleman?"

Joel groaned; she had badgered him about it a lot, but it was also clear that he had a huge, adorable little boy crush on Santana's little sister. Fitting, seeming she had a huge, probably by public standards; less adorable crush on Marie's big sister.

"Yes! Open the doors for her, ask her how her day is, and let her borrow my Crayons."

"Good boy. Ok, go tell mom I don't care whats for dinner as long as it's not meatloaf."

Brittany's little brother nodded dutifully, and disappeared downstairs again.  
Which left her back in her thoughts once more.  
Eventually, she snatched up her phone and decided to toss whatever self restraint she had out the window when she sent a text over to Santana.

**Santana, are we kind of friends?  
**  
It was a question of curiosity. Sure, Santana had said she would stop being so mean, and obviously she had stuck up for her a couple times; but Brittany couldn't recall the word friend in any of their conversations.  
Brittany held her breath as she waited, and waited, and waited eons for her phone to make some kind of response.  
Five minutes after her text was sent, she got one;

**Yes.**

And that was that. For thirty seconds.

**How does our friendship work?**

It was an immediate question that came to her mind- and since her self restraint was blowing somewhere in the wind, she sent it off without a second thought.

**What do you mean?**

_What _do _I mean?  
_Brittany bit her lip, and thought about how she could translate her bubbles of thoughts into words.

**I mean, how does it work? Are we secret friends or something? Because, you can't really be too obviously friendly towards me at school or anything. So... how does it work?**

That was the best she could come up with.  
There was a few minutes of silence from her phone, before it made a small jingle as she recieved another text.

**Yes, we are secret friends. It works because we make excuses.**

What kind of excuses?

It was another question that was tossed into cyberworld without thought.

**The kind that I'm failing algebra, or we're Spanish partners.**

Oh.

It was all Brittany could manage at the moment. So maybe it was finally settled, they were friends. Secret friends, but friends, nonetheless.

**How's about we officially kick off our secret friendship this weekend?**

Involuntarily, Brittany groaned at the thought of another party.

**Thanks Santana, but I don't think I want to party. Like ever again.**

She swore she could hear Santana rolling her eyes as she read her reply;

**I didn't mean a party! I meant a girls night!  
**

Brittany's stomach dropped into a suicide level of drops, and her head swayed.  
Girls night? She didn't even know what to do on a girls night!  
That, and the fact that she would be alone with Santana- whom was first of all Santana, and her crush on top of that.  
Her phone buzzed again, catching her attention- she read it hastily;

**I guess you could even invite Lady Hummel. I mean, I do sort of owe him- you said he gave me a ride to your house that one time on my drunken adventure, right? Besides, nothing could be as bad as spending the weekend with Fabitch.**

Brittany read the text a couple of times, trying to decide whether she was relieved or disappointed in Santana's invitation for Kurt as well.

**I'll ask him,  
**

She finally answered, and then fired a text to Kurt;

**Santana wants to know if you would like to join us for a girls night**

By the time Kurt answered, she had eaten dinner and got her pyjamas on, preparing to put on a movie in bed.

**YOU AND SANTANA ARE HAVING A GIRLS NIGHT?!**

Brittany let a puff of air out of her nose; she should have expected this response. That, and she wasn't sure how to explain the reasons of their girls night in general- she was also very aware that she wouldn't be able to beat around the bush with Kurt.

**Sort of. Kind of. Maybe. But she would like to invite you because she owes you for driving her to my place when she was drunk that one time.  
**

**You expect me to believe that Santana Lopez is trying to turn over a new leaf?**

This time she full on sighed before answering.

**I don't expect you to believe anything, Kurt. And you don't have to join us if you don't want to. She was just telling me she wouldn't be mean because she owes you, so it was safe for you to join us, if you wanted to. Honestly Kurt, deep, deep down she's not a bad person.  
**

**About thirty feet under the ground kind of deep?**

About. But really, would you like to join us? I promise she won't be mean.

There was a few minutes silence, before her phone buzzed once again.

**Fine. I'll give it a try.**

Brittany could imagine the stubborn tone to his voice as she read the text, and smiled.

**Thank you, Kurt. I promise you'll have a good time.**

This was going to be A) incredible; if Santana manages to let her walls down (consciously or not) in front of Kurt, then, literally everything would be better! If Kurt liked Santana, all her friends could grow to accept her- that was the power of Kurt. And that would be perfect. But then there's always way B) Chaos. If somehow Santana and Kurt got in a squabble, there goes her chances of hanging out with Santana often.  
Brittany thought over ways she could make the night go smoothly- without a single hitch. After all, she assumed the girls night (plus a gay) would take place in her humble abode.  
Well... Kurt is Kurt... so he would be all over makeup and fashion... and Santana is Santana... which means she would probably equally as interested in fashion and makeup.

She assumed things like self manicures and pedicures; since there was no way Santana would be the kind of person to happily let someone touch her feet- or touch someone else's feet.

And for movies... She could easily peg Santana as some kind of horror film; _Saw_, or the_ Amityville Horror_... While Kurt was more of a romantic comedy type. Truthfully, she could sit through either- maybe getting nightmares with horror, but she could sit through it. After all, she watches Dead Sight.

Tuesday was good. Santana and her had a brief discussion in Spanish, when Mr. Schue actually told them they needed a partner for a small ten- fifteen lined conversation entirely in Spanish.

_"¿Perdone, mi bisexual poco mullido, pero nunca me dijo lo que dijo la señora Hummel sobre esa noche de las señoras_?" Santana rolled off fluently.

Brittany stared at her, not comprehnding, blinking, before slowly raising her eyebrows, "What? All I got out of that was bisexual, and Kurt."

Santana leaned in, lowering her voice, "What did Kurt say about that... offer?"

At that moment, Brittany had the strongest urge to brush a stray lock of Santana's air behind her ear. Rubbing her eyes as though she could rub the overwhelming want out of her system, she then clasped her hands firmly on her lap.

"Uh... Yeah. Yeah he said he'd give it a go." Damn. She never knew how much she would miss her glasses- they would occupy her, by pushing them up her nose- because that damn piece of hair was bouncing around as Santana nodded, pleased.

_"¡Excelente_!"

"Uhh... yeah." Brittany was pretty sure she knew what Santana was saying, but still- this was her weak spot; Spanish.

"You really have no idea what to say, do you?" Santana sat back, smirking.

"What?"

"In Spanish. You really don't get Spanish,_ verdad_?"

She sucked in, "...No."

Lazily, Santana rested her head on her hand, propped up by her elbow.

"Would you like a tutor?"

"...Do you mean, you'd tutor me?"

"You tutored me." Santana shrugged, and pulled her hair in a high ponytail; finally getting rid of that pesky lock of hair that needed adjustment, "It'd be easy," She went on, "We could start this weekend. And it would be an excuse."

Brittany bit her lip; she knew the answer was already yes- but still, she had to let it sink in a minute. This friendly banter (Although kept at a very low volume) still felt extremely alien. After all, the last four years of her life Santana was nothing but crap- but that was before she really _knew_her...

"Sure." She finally answered, "But won't Quinn and the others be... suspicious?"

Santana cocked her head to the side like an innocent puppy, but her expression was less puppy-like; her eyebrows popped up, almost a mix between defiance and amusement, and her lips pulled up and a brief smile.

"_Usted dice que le gusta hay de algo para sospechar sobre_." The girl crooned superiorly.

Brittany blinked, and mirrored Santana's cocked head; "Huh?"

This time Santana really did smile as she translated, "You say that like there's something to be suspicious about." Instantaneously, a blush crept to her cheeks and she looked down; once again, she'd managed to make things sound awkward.  
_Nice going!_  
"I... I didn't..." Brittany stuttered over her own thoughts.

"By the way- 'I didn't' in Spanish is '_no me gustó_." Santana nonchalantly cracked her knuckles.

"Uhm... That's a bad habit." She hastily tried to change the topic. Santana looked at her, amusement once again written clearly on the features of her face, "So is biting your nails." She retorted.

"You... know I bite my nails?"

"Obviously."

After that, the two of them made a very short script of ten lines exactly. Although, her lines were mostly one word lines.  
Still, they passed the assignment- even _if_ it was just barely.  
Comic Book Club was fun, as usual- even if it was completely uneventful. Being around her friends just made it a good time.

Wednesday was... chaotic, more or less. Apparently there was some kind of pushing between Coach Sue and Principal Figgins, as he announced for (Say it ain't so!) the second time since school started the suspension of the Cheerios practices. Coach Sue was furious; Brittany had simply been walking to class, Tina down the hall a bit, when Sue decided to shove her into a locker while yelling something about 'the damn Glee kids!'.  
This, naturally, caused the Cheerios alarm; breaking down in the hallways, mood swings- using anything in sight as a punching bag...  
Even Santana was irritable.  
Thursday... well, it was like a trip of deja-vu to the last time the cheerleading practices were suspended. Oh well, it was a world without slushies at least.  
She took a chance in Spanish, double checking to see if it were going to be a Friday or Saturday thing. Honestly, it would probably be a lot safer to ask this over text message, due to the emotionally inbalanced states of the Cheerios; but Brittany had a very irrational need to test a wonder she had; would Santana be able to snap at her to her face?

"Hey," She said very quietly, poking Santana's shoulder as the class chatted, seeming Mr. Schue was MIA.

The dark haired girl turned in her seat, a guarded expression on her face; "Yes?" She didn't sound like she wanted to snap.

"Uh... So I was wondering, would it be Friday or Saturday- and it is at my house, right?" As usual, Brittany kept her voice at a low whisper, trying not to draw attention to their converstaion by any other members of the Spanish class.

"Yes. And Friday."

She nodded, and Santana turned around again.

Friday rolled around, and Kurt met her in front of the school- there was no need to be discreet, with the Cheerios out of... well... just out if it in general.  
"So, that... it's tonight, right?" The boy cocked his head, curious.

"Mmm hmm." She hummed, eyeing the boy to her right suspiciously, as he was carrying a red slushie in one of his hands.

"So... I can drive us? Dad gave me my car back, he finally got over my secret tiara collection."

"Yeah. Sounds good." Brittany was still watching the boy closely. He wouldn't... would he? Even with the possibility of a dozen or so crazed teenage girls lusting for his blood if he dare toss the drink?  
She audibly sighed when she finally saw him take one last final gulp and toss it in the trash.  
The day went on, with no sign of Santana until the transition of first and second period;  
"Hey, Spanish Partner." Santana said as she drifted up to her locker; in the back of Brittany's head, she was very appreciative that Santana wasn't one of those Cheerios that were so hysteric and depressed that they decided not to change from their uniform. Because seeing her hair down and in normal clothes was completely delicious to the eyes- no matter how hard she tried not to ogle.

"Hi," She tried to greet back nonchalantly, as she grabbed the books from her locker that she needed for next class.

"So, I was wondering..."

"Kurt can drive us." Brittany butt in, having the feeling that that was what the girl was going to ask.

"Oh. Ok." Santana smirked, "I will see you after school," She leaned in and whispered, "when we kick off our secret friendship."

"Alright." Her stomach fluttered, and the two parted ways.

Brittany's head was a ridiculous mess of excitement the rest of the day; she couldn't even remember what Sam and her talked about earlier, because she wasn't paying attention. Brittany was also infinitely glad, that since Dead Sight came out as a TV show, Comic Book Club had cancelled it's Friday meetings.  
The bell for the end of the day rung, and it took everything in her not to run all the way to her locker. She practically tossed her books in, yanked her hoodie over her head, and ran to meet Kurt out by his car. Mid-November was cold, in all truth, she should be wearing a coat, but hadn't felt like it yet- because it had yet to snow.

Kurt was leaning against his car, wearing another one of his impressively stylish 'mens' (Cough cough... right... _mens_) coats.

"Where's Satan?" He asked, sounding bored and verging on impatient- Kurt was never one for cold weather.

"Kurt," She scolded softly, "If she's going to be nice to you, you have to be nice to her."

He just made a small snort.

"Anyways," She went on, "I don't know. Just look for a Spanish girl in a red long-sleeve." Brittany told him, recalling what she had seen Santana wearing earlier. It really was a nice top- very basic, a boldly red top with a small V. It was probably something she would have worn in the sixth grade, honestly, but Santana filled it out well, it hugged her... ahh... well, yeah. It hugged her well.  
She and Kurt both went on a game of Eye-Spy for her, making a bet for ten bucks to whomever spotted her first.

"Oh! Found her!" Kurt gushed triumphantly, pointing to the west of the parking lot, where Santana was making her way over to the car. She looked the same as she had seen her earlier, red top, dark, tight jeans, although she had added an equally red beanie on top of her perfect dark hair.  
_Nice, Lopez. You've managed to become more perfect. Where is your trophy?  
_The parking lot was basically empty, besides the few couple stragglers; but all the jocks and Cheerios had gone home- so Santana came straight over to us.

"Damn Lad-" Santana started, eyeing his car impressively, before Brittany gave her a light nudge. Lady Hummel wouldn't do tonight.  
The girl froze mid sentence, cleared her throat and restarted; "How'd you manage such an awesome car?"

"Well," Kurt fixed his hair, "I'm sure you know my dad works at the auto repair shop- so he always fixes up this guy, Bruce's car. Bruce sold my dad this for fifty percent off."

"Impressive! Too bad I can't remember the last time I was in it."  
Britany was at a complete awe. She didn't really know what to expect- but not friendly, nonchalant banter this... easily.

Kurt smiled, "Yeah. Let's all hop in now, though- I want to get out of this weather."

"I second that!"

"Yeah." Honestly, she just wanted to sit back and watch her friends chat, to see how this will play out.

However, Santana refused to take the passenger seat and climbed in the back, tossing the red Cheerios bag which she still used for her books and binders to the opposite pole of the back.  
The three of them went off in Kurt's shiny black car in silence. The longer the silence stayed, the more tension pulled in the air.

"So..." She finally said, turning to face Santana, "What happened with Coach Sue and Figgins this time?"

Santana rolled her eyes, "I don't know- something about Glee club or something..."

"Oh! I actually know!" Kurt piped up, "Figgins cut the salary a bit for costumes, with sectionals coming up and all. He's just suspending the Cheerios whenever Coach Sue starts going on a rampage on school grounds. Mr. Schue told us."

"Cool-" Brittany beamed, although she wasn't in Glee club, she enjoyed hearing what songs they were going to do whenever an event came up- "What are you guys going to do this year?"

"Well..." Kurt sighed, taking a corner, "Rachel is going to be doing a Celine Dion solo- _what else is new_, and Mr. Schue has managed to scrape up a few Journey songs we haven't already done."

The pace was great throughout the night. To Brittany's delight, she hadn't had to pull Santana off of Kurt- or vice versa. Here it was, nearly eleven thirty at night; Kurt had dozed off about forty five minutes ago when they had started another one of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies in her room. Santana and herself lay wrapped up in the blankets on the floor- she felt like she could fall asleep, but frankly, she didn't want to. Santana was still wide awake, quietly munching on their steadily decreasing supply of popcorn, eyes glued to the television.  
Brittany yawned, and curled into a ball, still trying her hardest to stay awake and alert to the movie. But was still beginning to drift off, until,

"Tired?" Santana asked; and it swung Brittany back to the present.

"What? No." She scoffed lightly, reaching out for the popcorn bowl.

"Bored?" The girl guessed again, propping herself up on one elbow, while she used her other hand to pick at a loose string in the blanket from the spare room.

"No. Just felt like yawning."

Santana quirked her eyebrows, "You are the worst liar ever."

Brittany couldn't help but grin a little- it was true, and she'd heard it several times before from a variety of different people.

"Ok. Maybe a little tired."

Kurt stirred on her bed- crap- had they woken him? Oh, she hoped not- she'd feel so bad about disrupting his sleep, mostly because she knew how irritated she would be if it were the other way around.  
Brittany craned her neck to catch a glimpse of him on the bed, but saw nothing to indicate he had actually woken.  
That's right, Kurt sleeps like he's in a coma.

She heard a murmur, and looked to Santana;  
"What?" She whispered back, "I'm sorry, I didn't hear..."

The Latina combed her hand through her dark hair and leaned in so she could hear what she had to say more clearly; "I asked you what the sleeping arrangements are."  
She ushered back, and Brittany thought she could ever so faintly, feel Santana's breath their heads were so close.

"What do you mean?" Brittany inquired dumbly, not understanding the question Santana was asking.

"Well, Lady Hum-"

She shot Santana a scolding look and once again, the other girl backtracked, "_Kurt_. Obviously Kurt has taken the bed."  
Once again, she glanced at the sleeping boy.

"I can sleep with him," Brittany murmurred, "You can take the spare room."

Santana thought over, giving off a couple of tiny nods as though she were having an inner dialogue.

"If you want." Santana said, biting her lip and smirking, "But it'll be really awkward if he wakes up with morning wood."

She was instantly appalled with the thought; Kurt- waking up with a... a boner?! It seemed so unrealistic. Kurt, who always seemed to avoid any kind of sexual feelings or talks, waking up being aroused. It seemed far fetched, but, Kurt was still a boy- no matter what orientation.  
So that made the prospect of 'morning wood' a lot more... possible. There was always that possibility.  
Shuddering, she said- although still making sure to whisper, "Ew, gross! But I mean, I've slept in the same bed as him before and its never happened."

Santana was clearly stiffling a giggle as she replied, "Well it's in due time, then, isn't it?"

She swallowed thickly, running over that idea in her sleep cloudy brain.

"Alright, then the floor it is." Brittany sighed- she didn't really mind, she was actually incredibly comfortable on the floor wrapped in a cocoon of blankets.

"What? Don't be ridiculous, you can't sleep on the floor!"

"Oh, no- don't worry. I'm comfy."

"Yeah, but it's not a bed."

"Well, if I need to change my mind I can crawl up there with Kurt. If I see his morning wood... then... sucks to be me."

There was silence for a few moments, and she glanced back at Santana, who was chewing her lip, staring off into space.

"Tired?" She mimicked the girls earlier question.

"Just... thinking."

More hush, besides the soft voices of Johnny Depp and the other chracters on screen with the sound on low.

"Why don't you sleep in the spare bed with me?" Santana offered, settling down on the ground and staring into her eyes. Brittany felt a little breathless, seeing Santana there, laying in front of her, her dark hair splayed around messily.

"Oh, you don't have to do that, thanks."

"C'mon, it's not weird or anything." Santana shrugged, "I mean, we both slept in your bed last weekend."

"That was different," She said through another yawn, "We were drunk."

"So?" Santana shrugged again, and caught a yawn herself, "I insist."

Brittany nestled a little deeper into her cocoon of blankets, as if to prove how comfortable it really was on the floor. Santana didn't budge.

"Brittany, I will lift you if I have to- I won't let you sleep on the floor, no matter how stubborn you are."

She grunted, not knowing how to respond any other way. It was difficult keeping her eyes open, and she was actually quite content here on the floor.

Santana giggled lightly, and next thing she knew, the girls arms were slipping around her shoulders and wasit, as she coaxed Brittany into a proper position for being carried.

"No, you won't be able to lift me." She protested sleepily.

"You underestimate my power." Santana retorted playfully, "Besides, you're tiny. I could lift you without even really trying."  
And to Brittany's own surprise, Santana did, and she carried her all the way to the spare bedroom. Not that it was far.  
But still.

"Now, you stay on the bed, I'm getting the blankets." Santana ordered firmly, left, and returned with a handful of blankets, which she plunked on the bed, and made just as quickly.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Santana commented with playful sarcasm.

"Yes." She replied sleepily- but with just as much playfulness in her tone. Santana said she was stubborn- fine, she'd be stubborn.

"Oh, shut up." Santana chuckled, and gave her a light nudge.

It was at that moment, she remembered something; it jumped at her without any caution, and it was enough to wake her up so much as a energy drink.

"Hey... Santana..." She didn't even say it like a question, just a thoughtful- shocked, statement.

"Hmm?" Santana hummed, clearly unaware of her tone.

Brittany self consciously rolled herself into a ball, and lowered her eyes from the Latina in front of her to the pillows, "We kissed, didn't we?"

_One Mississippi... Two Mississippi... Five Mississippi... Twelve Mississippi... Nineteen Mississippi..._

"Yeah. We did."

Brittany chewed her lip, nervous, she wanted to inch away from Santana, but something held her there.

"Because you said you..." She trailed off. She didn't even want to say it- not because she didn't like that fact, but because she felt like it would sound like a lie in her own lips, her own words.  
Beside her, the girl took a small breath. She seemed at just a loss for words as Brittany was.

"And you meant it?" It was barely a sound at all.

_One Mississippi... Two Mississippi... Thirteen Mississippi... Twenty One Mississippi... Thirty Mississippi... Thirty Four Mississippi... _

"Yeah."

"You...?" She still couldn't raise her eyes to meet Santana.

"Are gay? No. Bi? No. I don't know what I am."

"That's ok." She assured quickly, "It shouldn't matter, really. You're still human, that's what counts. You're just like any other person if someone took a look inside of you. Same heart... stomach... blood."

_Forty seven Mississippi... _

"That's what counts." Santana echoed, not sounding completely reassured.

"Yeah. You're still you."

"Am I?" There was a hint of challenge in Santana's voice.

This time, Brittany forced herself to look at Santana, "You are. You're still you, I promise- you're still everything that you are, just with a new side."

"A new side?" Her eyes narrowed. Defensive.

"It's what you make of it, Santana," She was determined to keep her calm, "Let it ride out- your confusion. That's what you called it, right? If it evaporates, than good. If it doesn't, fine. That's for you to decide, accept- if it doesn't fade. It's a process, Santana. It's nothing to be afraid of."

The girl bit her lip, and blinked a couple times as her voice wavered, "But I am kind of afraid."

There it was again; the irritating sensation to reach over and stroke her hair, soothe her. But she restrained herself.

"Don't be. Look," Growing a little braver she sidled a bit closer to Santana, "Don't at all think I'm assuming you anything. I'm just saying... If you don't know how you feel about things- it's ok to keep it a secret. Give it time. No one is saying you have to do anything, especially when you don't want people knowing. We can keep it between you and I- your confusion. It's a secret. I know it's probably a tough one; not being sure. So leave it be until you know for sure, and then you can make decisions."  
Damn. She was never good with words.

_Fifty one Mississippi... _

Santana was silent for so long- so long, that a fear welled up that she had offended her, when that was the complete opposite of what she was trying to do. Brittany hastily prepared an apology in her head,

"Do-"

Santana cut her off, "Thank you." It was a whisper with so much emotion. Sadness. Hope. Sincerity. Trust.  
The other girl reached over, and ran her hand through Brittany's hair gently, "Thank you so much."

She swallowed thickly, and tried to crack a joke to loosen the mood, yet keeping it completely serious, "Hey, speaking from first hand experiences, it's no problem. I don't judge- or even care- because you're still you. That's all that matters to me about people."

Santana smiled, still, a smile full of all the emotion in her voice; she pulled Brittany closer and wrapped her arms around her in a tight embrace. A hug.  
Brittany hugged back willingly, and stroked the back of Santana's head as all restraint crumbled away into little pieces.  
Into her shoulder, Santana laughed, and then sniffed.  
"You know," She said, her voice thick with tears, "I do still like you."

Sanity might have crumbled away too.

"Yeah, I like you too."

"You're so much better than what people treat you for. You don't deserve that."

"No one does. But," She smiled, although Santana's face was still in her shoulder, "You aren't that bad yourself, you know? Once you take down your bitchy facade- saying that in the most friendly way possible."

Santana laughed again, "It's a compliment."

"It was supposed to be."

Santana pulled away, grinning, as she wiped her eyes on the back of her hands, "I don't even know what I'm crying for." She mumbled, and giggled at herself some more.

"Relief?" She suggested, smiling as she watched the girl.

"Maybe."

Suddenly feeling tired again, Brittany lay down, resting her head on the soft pillows- some time during the conversation she had sat up, although she couldn't recall when.  
Santana sighed and did the same, her hand reaching out and resting on Brittany's arm, tracing patterns.

"Thank you." She repeated, "It means so much."

Brittany smiled at the roof, "You're not alone."

Slowly, ever so slowly, Santana sidled up beside her, wrapping her arms around Brittany, clinging like a lifeline of hope- but in a gentle way.  
Lips brushed her shoulder for a quick but firm moment.

"Goodnight, Britt."

"Goodnight, San."  
_  
_


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: Sorry everybody! I have been BUSY BUSY BUSY :/ But, enjoy, this is a different chapter... **

"Britt." Someone in the room called to her; she scrambled to look around the vast checker-tiled room at all the people watching the scene in front of her to find who said her name.

"_Britt_." Someone shook her shoulders.

"Mmph?" She grumbled, succombing to wakefulness; but just barely.

"Britt, wake up, please."

"I am up." She mumbled into her pillow, not wanting to open her eyes to the light of day.

"Britt!" Santana shook her lightly again.

"_What_?- What's happening?" She still didn't open her eyes.

"I, uh... I saw something."  
Confused, Brittany finally pried her eyelids open and looked around the dark room; where she expected to see sunlight through the windows, she only saw darkness. It was still the night.  
Relieved that she had more time to sleep, she nestled her head back into her pillow; "It's probably just Lord Tubbington. Go back to sleep, San."  
She didn't know how many seconds it had been; ten, maybe? Who cares. What was important was that she was falling back to sleep.

"Can you look?" She finally asked, hugging Brittany tight. She suppressed an unhappy groan.

"Are you afraid of the dark or something?" She grunted, sitting up while Santana loosened her grip.

"Maybe. Tell anyone- and you die, though."

Brittany felt to irritated to even poke good fun at the girl, instead she just swung her legs over the bed, and wandered around the room, making sure for the sake of Santana- that the room was completely empty. It was (As she was already aware).

"Nothing." She grumbled, crawling back under the covers, "Just empty space." Brittany nuzzled into the pillow again.

"Thanks. I wouldn't be able to sleep if I thought..."

"Yeah, ok. But let it be known that I am not making a habit of waking up at..." She trailed off, "What time is it anyways?"

In the dark, Santana shrugged. "I don't know."

"Oh. Well, it's not becoming a habit. I love my sleep."

"Understood." There was a smile in San's voice, although she had her eyes closed, ready to drift back into a world soft as clouds; she just needed to calm down her brain, as it had switched back onto the 'on' mode while she was walking around and talking.  
The bed shifted as Santana settled into her again, she felt the girls head rest on her chest gently- her one arm fell near Brittany's head, fingers playing carefully in her hair, creating soft, soothing tugs. The other arm a rest by her neck. The position caused Santana's whole upper body on top of hers.  
And it really wasn't helping her brain shut down, because the warmth sent a happy hum through her body. Knowing Santana was there.  
Instead of focusing on that, she tried to consume her mind into the soft tugs, and breathing. Breathing deeply, in and out...  
As she was half asleep, she was faintly aware of the girls fingers slowly moving down to her jaw line, tracing it smoothly.  
Relaxing.  
Brittany's head felt like it was full of fuzz, clouding her brain, not making any real sense of anything. Her brain wanted to sleep- but it wanted to stay alert to the touch even more.  
She fell into the touches, the way they left a burning trail of contentness in their wake along her jaw. Brittany fought the wall of sleep because she wanted to enjoy this feeling for as long as she could- savor it.  
As her conscious was eventually beginning to topple down into a sleep, something else touched her jaw- something not quite the same began to trace it;  
Lips.

"San, what're you doing?" She asked groggily; honestly she didn't care for an answer, she just felt like she needed to ask it. Brittany didn't even open her eyes as breathed out the words.

"I dunno." Santana sounded slightly out of it and tired herself. Or maybe it was Brittany's own sleep clogged brain distorting it.  
Even as the girl answered, she didn't cease slowly following Brittany's jawline with small kisses.

"Oh."

"Do you want me to stop?" It was an innocent question. Brittany thought about it.

"...No. You don't have to."  
Her brain was awake in a different way now, although she was still barely hanging on to consciousness. She just paid attention to the way the little kisses made her feel- they way the felt on her skin.  
Which is why she didn't even feel them progressing her chin at a timely pace; she wasn't focusing on where they were placed, because she wasn't expecting them anywhere else.  
That's why she didn't notice until they were gracefully moving on her lips.  
That jolted her into a state in which she could reciprocate, rather than laying in a semi-comatose state. It was instinctual to move her own lips against Santana's as the girl kissed her with caution.  
Santana responded to her reaction with a heavy sigh through her nose, as she (carefully enough not to break the interaction they were exchanging) climbed fully on top of Brittany's body, swinging her legs on either side of Brittany's.  
Her own body responded by wrapping her arms around Santana's neck, seeming of their own accord, considering she didn't even think about it. It just happened.  
Santana ran her tongue slowly over her bottom lip; it wasn't like last times kiss- which was fast, and fed by booze pumping through both their veins. This time, Santana was being careful, cautious, gentle.  
A tiny sound escaped Brittany's own throat at the sensation of it, and Santana caught onto the sound without passing it by with the smallest echo of her own, as she took Brittany's bottom lip between her teeth and tugged softly.  
Brittany could feel her brain pulling itself from it's semi-consciousness into a full on, almost caffinated wakefulness.  
She sat up slowly, still not breaking any of the join between their lips, and ran one hand down to the small of Santana's back, the other to her neck, wear she played with the hairs on the back of her neck in a similiar way Santana had done to her when they first started falling asleep.  
Santana let another small noise out, and repositioned herself as well, wrapping her legs around Brittany's waist.  
The girl pulled her lips from Brittany's- and she instantly felt disappointed at the loss ofn contact, and a bit embarrassed for fear that she had done something wrong.  
Instead, Santana wordlessly brought her head down to her neck, and began to kiss and nip at it- sending whole new sensations through her body; and this time, it wasn't just to her brain.  
Once again, it was like some primal instinct that caused Brittany to tilt her head to the opposite side that Santana was working at.  
Her body seemed hyperaware of all sensations now, as Santana's hands on her back ran down to the hem of her shirt, before slipping under; the nails digging in enough to not make any sort of scratches, but with enough pressure to feel incredibly good.  
A sound somewhere between a moan and laugh passed from Brittany's lips, which she tried to muffle into Santana's shoulder as she realized she was making it; her parents and little brother were just down the hall, after all. Along with Kurt, who was just next door.

Santana squeezed tightly for a moment, nails digging into the skin on the small of her back; at the same time, yet another sensation occured on her neck, as Santana ran her tongue from the spot she was working at, to her jaw once again. She brought one hand up from the skin on her back, and directed Brittany's head to her own again, and pressed their lips together again.  
Electricity pumping through every cell in her bpdy; Brittany felt very done with slow and cautious, and bringing one hand to the back of Santana's head, pulling her down again, Santana's legs fell fom her waist back between Brittabny's. She transitioned the kiss from careful and closed mouthed to opened.  
She still felt like she had lack of experience, so she instead allowed Santana to attack her mouth with tongue instead of her invaading Santana's. Brittany moaned quielty in Santana's mouth as the girl traced patterns on her tongue with her own. Santana retruned the sound, this time, her hand running under Brittany's shirt in the front. Her hands were shockingly cold against energy charged skin, as she continued to lightly scratch across Brittany's well maintained abs to her bra (Whenever there's people over, she preferred to sleep with a bra on). Brittany gasped her nails lightly scratching across Santana's neck as she tightened her grip, reciprocating a throaty gasp from the other girl as well.  
And then Brittany made a small whimper from lack of contact, as Santana moved her head again, and hiked Brittany's sleep shirt up. She tried to pull Santana back up to her mouth by tugging softly on her hair, hoping Santana would get the message. Even if the girl did, she didn't show much od a realizatrion; but as far as Brittany was concerned, she was happy she didn't- because Santana's tonue began licking up from her pant lin to her bra; over her belly button, her abs, with her hands digging on either side of Brittany's torso.  
Her supercharged skin felt like it was on fire, and she couldn't help but arch her stomach up a little bit off of the matress, while she secretly hoped that Santana would move to another part of her body, because that dull ache was not so dull anymore.  
Once again, the girls nails were scratching their way down her sides, and then they came to a stop at the hem of her pants, tugging at the elastic teasingly.  
She squeaked.  
She wanted it.  
She really did.  
Maybe she wanted it like nothing she'd ever expierienced before.  
But she couldn't.

"Wait," She said breathlessly. Santana looked up at her, freezing, tongue still out from where it was tracing delicious patterns and feelings across her stomach.

"We... can't."

There was silence.

"Not here. Not right now."  
Santana sat up.

"And frankly, I don't think we should." Word vomit. It was only a matter of time.

The girl furrowed her brow, and ran a hand through her hair, "I get not here, not now. But why shouldn't we? We both like each other, we said so, like, two- three hours ago. This is what people who like each other do."

"Because we're friends."

"People who like each other can also be friends."

"I..." Brittany choked for words- no matter how much she wanted it, it didn't feel right, somehow. But she couldn't pinpoint why.  
"It just doesn't feel... _right_, to me." She sighed, unsure of how to put it any other way but not wanting to lie.

Santana nodded slowly, and bit her lip, "You don't want me taking your virginity." It wasn't a suggestion, she said it as a statement.

Brittany herself thought about it, "Maybe... Maybe I'm not ready to lose my virginity."

"No, I mean you don't want _me_to talk your virginity." Brittany was taken aback at that- that wasn't it at all!

"No, I didn't mean-"

Santana waved the words off dismissively, and crawled off of her, "No, I get it. I do. I've slept with like, _half_ of the male population of McKinley. I can understand why you wouldn't want _me_to take your virginity."

"That's not it at all. It just doesn't feel like the right time. It has nothing to do with _you_, I promise. I mean," Brittany took a chance and tried to lighten the mood, and all at once to assure Santana (Which would be done best through flattery, she assumed) "Keep doing what you were doing and I'd lose my V-Card to you any day!" She grinned at Santana sheepishly. It was no word of a lie, "Just not right now."

Santana laughed lightly, "Yeah, alright."

"Go to sleep, San. I promise you there are no monsters." She told her with soft amusement. Brittany still felt like the girl needed reassurance that it wasn't her as a person that made them stop. So, this time, she crawled over to Santana, and snuggled her.  
Of course, she would have to wait a while for the ache to ebb away before she could actually sleep.

"Morning, girls." Kurt said, making his way into the living room. Both she and Santana had woken up not long ago. Brittany didn't dare bring up last night, because, although she had no idea how the other girl felt about the... encounter/conversation/everything. But she, was embarrassed to no end.  
That's for sure.  
And Santana didn't bring it up either, so she was ready to burry it under hundreds of feet. No matter how much she had to admit she wanted it to happen.

"Good morning." She murmurred, "My mom's gone out to pick up pancakes from Cora's. She didn't feel like cooking, and insisted on a proper morning meal."

"Oh. Alright." Kurt sat down on the couch beside Brittany, "So what're you watching?"

"House Hunters." Santana replied lazily- Brittany had noted, that Santana was one of the following; very nervous, which didn't seem likely- or- the more practical thought- she was one of those people that just cannot get comfortable on couches, because she was sprawled across nearly upside down. And the position ended at that after nearly ten minutes of constant shifts.

"Ooh! Where? Belize? The Mayan Rivera?" He chirped. Kurt enjoyed watching shows like House Hunters and daydreaming about moving somewhere beautiful.

"Not even close," Brittany replied, "Some place in Italy, I think." Kurt's excited smile faltered slightly, before resuming again.

"Well, Italy is quite the charming place, too."

Minutes passed in silence.

"Oh, and Britt," He went on, "You know you could've slept with me, right? I don't want you to feel like I totally kicked you out of your bed."

As quickly and carefully as possible, Brittany thought over a response without hinting away at any traces of their 'morning wood' conversation. She struggled to find a legit excuse; if she simply said she preferred to sleep with Santana- Kurt would notice, without a doubt. And if she said something about the fact that they were both girls, and that was why she had chosen to be next to Santana; the boy would be totally offended.

"Maybe she wanted to sleep with me." Santana commented with a tone that could be described as suggesting a bit of defense and maybe even some warning.  
A small look of shock crossed Kurt's features. Whether it was Santana's choice of words or the very tone she used that caused it- was hard to say.

"Well, Kurt," Brittany affirmed quickly, sitting up in Santana's path of vision, "You looked so cozy and I didn't want to wake you up. So, Santana offered for me to sleep with her in the spare room."

"Wanky."

"What?" Both Brittany and Kurt asked in unison, turning to face the Latina, whom was smirking.

"You just said that I offered for you to sleep with me in the spare bedroom." She was looking at her with those eyes- they were mischevious. She was explaining, without Kurt's knowledge, of course, of the events that took place only a few hours before. Brittany felt blood rush to her cheeks, as that clammy feeling went up her neck.

"Uh..." Brittany cleared her throat while turning back to Kurt, "Anyways, aside from Santana's perverted mind; I just didn't want to wake you up- I'd feel bad. You're like a puppy when you sleep, and nobody wants to wake up a puppy."

"That's sweet, Britt," Kurt clucked, "But from now on; you know you can wake me up if I ever take up all the room on your bed again, ok?"

Brittany smiled, "Y-"  
Nails raked carefully on her lower back at a small strap of flesh that was exposed from her shirt riding up. Brittany bit her lip to stop a gasp of surprise from puffing out.

"Sure," She croaked, "Sure, yeah. Yeah, ok."

Kurt narrowed his eyes, sensing something off kilter. After all, he was completely unaware of Santana lightly running the tips of her fingers back and forth along her pantline and up her spine.

The boy opened his mouth to say something, but he was saved by (as usual) her mother bursting through the frontdoor, hands full of cardboard boxes that held delicious pancakes from Cora's Pancake Breakfast.  
The three of them ate in silence, only to start arguing when it came to the end of the episode, where both Brittany and Kurt thought the couple should go for house number Two, with it's beautiful yard and two stories of greatness- not to mention a kitchen that was to die for.  
Where Santana thought they should go for house Three; with it's big wraparound porch and a basement made for company.  
In the end; Santana was right- and she flaunted her choice superiorly.  
After that, both Kurt and Santana prepared to leave, because Brittany had to go shopping for a new pair of glasses (No, her mother was not happy when she finally had to report that she'd lost them. Though, Brittany told her mother she left them on the bleachers during an assembly and then they were gone).

"Alright," Kurt breathed, "I will talk to you soon, Britt." He pulled her into a hug, "And Santana," Kurt fumbled awkwardly, and held out his hand, "Nice to... uh, _see_ you."  
Santana took his hand, and the two shook stiffly.  
"Bye!" Brittany said, and Kurt waved as he left for his car.

"You're sure you don't need a ride?" Brittany inquired uncertainly as Santana slipped into her shoes.

"No, I'll be fine, Bi-Pierce. I like the excercise."

She twisted her lips- why did Santana always have to refuse help?

"If you say so..." She groaned unhappily.

"I'll live, I promise." Santana laughed as she pulled Brittany in for a hug, "I'll also talk to you soon." She promised, unwrapping herself from the embrace, and leaving in a similar manner as Kurt did.

**Yes, I made Santana purposefully touchy-feely in this chapter- but all will be explained :) **


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: Kind of a short chapter again, sorry guys! :( I meant to basically write and write all winter break, but of course as soon as I want to relax at home I'm suddenly busy everywhere, and when I'm home I'm exhausted. In this chapter, though, you'll get a TINY MINISCULE peek into Santana's life, which I hope you like. I rollercaoster'd with myself with whether or not I should write it, but I did. Sorry again, it's kind of jumpy this chapter, and rushed. Hope I can relax and write again ASAP. You guys are great, love the reviews and everything! :) Hope you enjoy. **

Santana saw the house at the end of her road.  
Her house.  
It was ugly, nothing compared to Brittany's. It was one story, and there were probably parts in the wall or floorboards that were rotting away to nothingness.  
And also, unlike Brittany's; the house was definitely not a home for anyone.

"Sanny, were you at Quinn's?" Marie asked, her small hand fit inside of Santana's as they walked down the road.

"Yes, I was." She told her sister impassively, staring ahead at the road, "How was Mr. and Mrs. Crumpton's?"

"Great!" Her little sister bounced up and down, "We made cookies!"

"Fun!" She crooned, sounding convincing to her sister; although it was entirely fake excitement. Santana was upset about the fact that she couldn't even leave her house and know that Marie was alright. No, whenever she wanted to leave for the night, she had to drag her sister along to Mr. and Mrs. Crumpton's.  
The two were an elderly couple that lived a couple streets down; the poor two, they weren't like most of the others in this section of Lima; the section that single handedly born the term 'Lima Loser'.  
No, they were just an old pair that didn't have enough money to move away, so they were stuck here.

Santana reached into the dead hanging plant on the porch, fumbling around in dry soil until she felt the spare key; she picked it out and unlocked the front door, before tossing it back in.  
It smelled inside; as it usually did. A peculiar smell, really. Metal and dirt and sweat and drugs. All mixed into one strange, repugnant smell.

She had the ridiculous urge to cover her little sisters eyes; but it wouldn't be of any use, she had seen it all before.  
Santana wished more than anything; that Marie didn't have to see this.

Her aunt was on the tattered, dirty couch, head staring at the ceiling; barely functioning.  
Santana didn't allow Marie to greet her, nor did she greet her aunt- strung out on a recent shot of heroin, judging by the needle on the table- as they passed to their shared bedroom.  
Where her uncle was, she didn't know, or care to know.

"Alright, pumpkin," She sighed, easily lifting her sister up and shutting the bedroom door. At home, all her energy went to keeping Marie happy, safe, and trying her desperate hardest to keep her head as pure and clean as possible from all other influences, "What do we say when we see that?"

"That's gross."  
It was a sadly rehearsed line.

"And?"

"It's bad."

"How bad?"

"Really,_ really _bad."

"Good girl," She booped her little sisters nose lightly, "Now it's my turn, right?"

"Yes."  
This part was just as much for her, as it was for Marie.

"Sorry to you- sorry to me- sorry everybody here will never be somebody clean. But it'll be ok, because I promise I'll never be like that- and I'll make sure you aren't either."

"Because it's bad- really, _really _bad?"

"Yes." Santana's voice was thick.

"But Sanny?"

"Hmm?"

"What are those lines you have?"

"What lines?"

"You know, the ones under your arms? What are they? Because auntie has circles kind of like that on her arms."

"Those are different." She assured. Scars, yes. But different; her's were a separate form of mutilation; they sent endorphines rushing, trying to repair what she had caused in form of a distraction.  
Her aunt's were scars, caused by hundreds of punctures from pinpoint needles to the vein, that sent endorphines rocketing out of control via the drug, which was used for who cares what reason; it wouldn't make a difference.

Maybe they weren't so different, after all.

"Yeah, but," Marie furrowed her brow, "What are they?"

Santana bit her lip, "Something bad."

"Then why do you have them?" She looked appalled.

"A very different reason. I promise. And I promise I'm getting better, and they're going away."

"You _promise_?"

"I promise with all my life, sweetheart."

She wasn't sure how she felt about her new pair of glasses. She liked them mostly because she wouldn't have to constantly take out and put contacts in her eyes. But they weren't the same; this pair fit her head perfectly, and it took a lot to get them to slide down her nose. Brittany probably should have liked that; but she didn't. Strangely enough, it was comforting to always push them up her nose- no matter how irritating it was.  
No, she felt like she had lost and replaced a part of her identity.  
She frowned at her reflection in the bathroom mirror; it really didn't feel like she was looking at herself anymore. Someone completely different from a week ago; someone who had experienced different things, and changed looks to top it.  
Brittany was a little confused, too; about Santana, of course.  
She knew how these kind of relationships worked; it was like in Dead Sight, when Eric thought he was gay, so he ran to Isaac for help. Isaac was understanding, and the two subtly flirted a while in privacy, before having sex; and by then, Isaac was in love. And Eric wasn't gay.  
No, but that is a fictional story in a fictional book with fictional chracters. And by no means was she in_ love_- no no.  
Attracted? Definitely.  
A strong attraction? It could be classified under that.  
But love was something far off. She didn't love easy.  
The only person she was certain she loved was Joel. Her friends, maybe.  
But those are different kinds of loves.

Sighing, she left the bathroom for the downstairs, where she offered to play video games with her brother; though her focus drifted often.  
She would help Santana out with her feelings. Part of her still didn't feel entirely comfortable to losing her virginty yet; especially not to someone who was unsure of their sexuality, so if Brittany was turned down in the end, it wouldn't be as hard. No, she wanted to lose her virginity to someone who loved her.  
But Brittany doubted there was another lesbian or bisexual girl Santana knew that she would want to try out her feelings on for the first time.  
So that left her and only her.  
And Brittany really didn't want to leave Santana hanging; because she knew that feeling of not knowing; guilt, frustration, lost... So she would choke down her wants to sacrifice it for someone else's needs.  
That still didn't change the aspect of when. She needed the time to be right. Though, hopefully she'll stick through with her plan to help Santana- Brittany was still definitely not ready to lose her V-Card. Maybe she should... masturbate?  
She shuddered; that was an unusual thought for her. A foreign possibility; she also wanted to lose herself for the first time to an actual person. Not herself. But maybe if she did... it wouldn't be such a big deal? When the time came for Santana...

Brittany swallowed; the room felt abruptly clammy. It was probably just her, however.

Surely she shouldn't be thinking such thoughts while sitting next to her little brother? Brittany snuck a guilty side glance at him and then turned her attention back to the television screen once more; she'd been playing, but not at all well.  
She sniped down a few more men before the round ended, before excusing herself quickly.  
Brittany made her way into the kitchen, grabbed a cup, and got herself a water.

The thoughts went on all day as everything ceased to be a distraction, until she slept off her worries.

"So," Her mother said, observing a clump of bananas suspiciously- she had dragged Brittany out to the market with her this morning, "Britt,"

"Hmm?" She hummed, bored.

"On Wednesday, Garrett and I will be going to the Anderson's- you know the Anderson's, right? The new couple down the street?" The older woman put the bananas down and continued pushing the cart down the fruits and veggies isle, Brittany trailed along slowly.

"No," She replied, "I haven't met them yet."

"Oh." Mrs. Thomas-Pierce now begun inspecting some apples, "Well, feel free to come with us! They have a son about your age, I believe. We'll just be going for a couple hours. Two or three. Joel will be going to his friend Stephen's."

She honestly had not a fibre in her body that wanted to join them, so she lied, "Yeah, maybe."

Monday morning delivered snow; as she walked to school, her feet crunched for the thin layer covering the ground.  
God, when it snows more it's going to suck; snowballs were another form of torture the jocks liked to deliver off school grounds. All the better if they accidentally get a clump of ice in there, too.

"Good morning!" Someone called from behind her as she entered the parking lot. Brittany spun on heel and saw a certain ex-Cheerio heading towards her.

"What are you doing?" She asked quietly, looking over both shoulders.

"Saying good morning?" The girl knitted her eyebrows together, uncertain of Brittany's reaction.

"Shouldn't you not? Won't you be shunned? And why are you in a good mood?"

"Ugh," Santana rolled her eyes and slowly started walking toward the school again- so did Brittany, as she went on, "You sound like the Hobbit again. And I am in a good mood, because I love the snow."

"Really?" Brittany was kind of stunned, "You don't peg me as a snow kind of girl."

"No, I love it."

It was a bit frightening seeing Santana in a good mood. It reminded her of a hyper pitbull; it could turn around and snap at your arm in a matter of seconds.

"Anyways," Santana went on, "I'm going to go. Watch out for crazy ex- cheerleaders."

"Bye?" Brittany watched Santana hop away. That was incredibly out of character...  
Comfortingly, however, Santana's hype had worn away by Spanish.  
The day wasn't anything special besides that.

"Hey, Sam," She greeted the boy after school as he waited by his bus stop.

"Oh, hey Britt."

"How's Jasmine?" Brittany sensed something off kilter with the boy's very demeanor.

"We broke up yesterday." He sighed, "I thought I really liked her... but she was kind of mean, so I broke it off."

Brittany tilted her head curiously, "Sam, are you sure she wasn't just on her period?" Cutely, he shuddered at the last word and covered his ears.

"Ah!" He exclaimed, "Don't say that! It's so harsh and sudden- like a knife that just cuts everything in its way!"

She burst into a fit of giggles, "You're such a dork!" She punched him in the arm lightly.  
Sam twisted his lips.

"But seriously," She went on, "Did you make sure it wasn't just... _that_?"

"I don't think so," He said, "She was mean as soon as we started dating, and she didn't say anything about being on it."

Brittany rolled her eyes, "And you guys have been dating how long, exactly?"

He shrugged, "About a week."

"Sam, you dummy! She probably was!"

"But she didn't say-" He looked suddenly frantic.

"Of course she wouldn't," She rolled her eyes again, "In case you didn't know; but it's kind of embarrassing."

The blonde boy swallowed thickly, "Oh, crap! Well, what do I say to get her back?"

"Well... just say that you were too soon to break it off, you're sorry, you really like her- and chocolate- bring her lots and lots of chocolate."

He put his hand on Brittany's shoulder, "Thank you- you are a Saint of a wingwoman."

"I try." She laughed, before walking away and heading home.


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Hey guys! Sorry, it took forever to update this one... I'm in such a writers funk :'( Which is why I'm officially saying I'm gonna take a short hiatus, but, once again, I promise this story will NEVER BE ABANDONED. Never thought I'd say this, but if you have a Tumblr, feel free to follow me at URL; The-Vacancy-Is-Casual. I'll be there to update progress and stuff, and you can ask questions if you have any... love ya, you guys are great, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! (Though it's probably not very well written)**

Santana wasn't at school on Tuesday.  
That worried her, though it probably shouldn't.  
She walked the hallways of the school with her head held low, as the Cheerios had been, once again, reinstated. By the end of the day, she had four slushies tossed at her face.  
Wednesday was only slightly better. See, the world had planned three slushies for her today, but- for some reason- she did something she has never done before- she had _moved her head away from the slushie missile_- and it had worked! The freezing grape slush had soared over her shoulder and landed on a new target- the broad, fat chest of David Karofsky. Though she had felt impressed with her save from the attack, that had to send her flying into the nearest girls bathroom and consider enrolling in WPP for protection.  
Thankfully, that was just before the final class of the day, so she only had to remain vigilant for a short amount of time, and praise the Lord that she actually didn't cross paths with any overly aggressive jocks or Cheerios.  
Speaking of overly aggressive Cheerios... Santana had made her (triumphant; by bully standards) return. It was actually a terrifying look back in time, because from Monday's euphoria she seemed to have- this was the exact opposite. This was a demon stirring up in the pits of her stomach fed by some kind of boiling rage. The girl had done nothing to her particularly, but Brittany had kept her path clear from her anyways, just in case.  
Santana had stalked the halls with almost a constant slushie in hand, tossing them left and right (one at Tina), and rumour had it that she had also been picking verbal nicks at Quinn Fabray, and a few other unfortunate students.

"What Prince of Hell decided to use her as host today?" Kurt had muttered earlier as the two of them watched Santana filling a slushie cup with red gush from a safe distance, "Actually no- scratch that- I think this is the second rising of Satan. I bet if you looked at her from a certain light you could see horns..."

"Kurt," Brittany clicked her tongue, "Come on, you know she's not always like this." She defended lightly.

"I'm starting to think the Santana Lopez I witnessed that day was a clone of some other dimension."

"She's probably just had a bad day." She tried to assure him- even for Santana, this was an over the top anger.

"Why are you defending her?" Kurt asked curiously, quirking an eyebrow.

"Because I've known her longer than you have!" Maybe it was a quick, obvious snap, "I've seen her without walls, Kurt." She went on in a softer, quieter tone, "And she's actually really sweet."

Slowly, Kurt nodded, his eyebrows high with intrigue, "Someone's got a crush, huh?"  
It was a tease. A partial tease, the other half of his words were very serious- shocked, even.

"What? No!" Brittany attempted desperately to cover up her mistake;  
"She's a friend, that's all."

"_Uh-huh_," The boy clucked, unconvinced, "Well, Britt- just remember; stray dogs bite."

And with one more glance at Santana he whisked away.

Brittany herself turned to look at the cheerleader again; slushie in hand, clutching it tightly, she snarled; "_Move_!" at a unsuspecting girl chatting at her friend, to top Santana emptied the red slush onto her head before dropping the now useless cup onto the linoleum with a dull clud.  
For some reason, Kurt's words stuck in her head awhile; _'stray dogs bite'. _  
She didn't even know why those three words just couldn't shake free- but she had mulled over them the rest of the school day. In fact, she still was now, as she lay on her bed with the house vacant. Her parents were at the Anderson's... Joel at Stephen's...  
Partly, Kurt's statement felt shakingly true; in some ways, Santana did remind her of a stray dog. She always had the sensation that Santana was a little bit lost, in some ways.  
But another piece of her felt the words to be entirely wrong; first of all- all dogs bite, at some point or another. And secondly, Santana had always had a place on the food chain- a high up place. Whether she was co-captain of the Cheerios, or off, where she had maintained her dignity to still be respected. That, and, stray dogs were beggers. They lived off of the crumbs they could scavenge or the things people would spare them- and Santana did not beg. She was entitled to get what she wanted.  
Though there were more facts to easily shrug off the words as a misrepresentation of the girl; it still seemed more right to agree.  
Half way, at least.  
Her mind branched and drifted in opposite directions for who knows how long; but it always came around full circle to Santana again. No matter which way Brittany attempted to lead her thoughts, they always got pulled back to the girl; they seemed to be doing that a lot lately. There was no way to get Santana out of her head, no matter how hard she tried. Maybe it was because she sympathized what the girl was feeling? That, and add with the mixture to the excitement of their (supposedly) mutual attraction to one another.  
And with this she returned to the curious thoughts she'd constructed on Sunday- masturbation?

Almost guiltily, she glanced down at her own private area; it seemed displeasing. But was it worth it to go to the lengths of Santana? After all, the other girl seemed pretty eager the other night. And in all honesty, if they were alone, Brittany wouldn't have stopped her.  
But was she really ready? At the time it felt like a fabulous, painstakingly unacceptable possibility driven by a wild rage of hormones. But now, with a calm and reasonable mind; there were more things to consider, draw out the lines and see if it should actually be something to be considered.  
First of all, if the two of them really went... _there_ (which still felt like a surreal option), would Santana pick up and leave afterwards? No matter what the outcome? It may seem overdramatic, but it would be pretty traumatizing if after... _it, _they stopped talking. A stab in the back, kick in the stomach and gunshot to the thoughts all at once.  
However, she should also consider the less likely side of things; if she stayed. Not just after the... event, but through the ins and outs? And Brittany wasn't even talking girlfriends or anything- though that would be completely entirely amazing- but staying as a friend would be satisfying enough.  
In that moment, that attainableness seemed worth the sacrifice.

Maybe it wasn't such a reasonable mind, after all. Maybe it worked on impulses.

With a semi-reluctant breath, she slid her hands under the elastic of her pyjama bottoms, and she made what she was sure to be only the beginning of multiple sacrifices for a certain crush.

"You ok?" Sam asked uncertainly during chemistry class this morning, "I mean, I know you got slushied, but you seem jumpier than usual?"

"What? Oh." Her mind was straying left and right, "Yeah. I'm fine."

"C'mon, I know when something's up," He urged, narrowing his eyes slightly, "You're way more spacey than usual."

"I'm fine Sam, I'm fine." She waved him away, pretending to turn to her notes.

Truthfully though, Brittany was very aware of how spacey she must be coming off as. In her mind, she was playing tug-of-war with herself; there was a side that was pulling her to approach Santana; offer for the girl to come over this weekend, she could probably persuade her parents out of the house if she were sly enough, and they wouldn't suspect a thing. It would be easy; tell them that they would be wanting to watch movies and play Wii downstairs on the bigscreen. If she worded herself right, and her mom was in the correct mood, she could easily bring herself, Garrett and even Joel to the Turner's a couple streets down. Mom was good friends with Mrs. Turner, Garrett friends with Mr. Turner and their son was only a year older than Joel. That could buy them at least four hours. Which was more than enough time, surely?  
But another part of her head wanted to back out; she was not ready yet. Santana's behaviour the other night could have been a complete fluke. That, and, she was definitely not ready with her body. Though she had always been proud of her flat stomach and strong legs, she felt her more private sections could be completely appalling to another person.  
_But yesterday I made a decision! I masturbated, and, by official standards- no longer have a virginity! That's why I did it! So that we could do this for Santana! _One side shrieked at her.

_Maybe I should wait a bit longer! Have Santana make the first move! _

_Yeah, but it's not like I'll be forcing her to have sex with me! She would be making the first move, this is just in case! Maybe a bit of a prompt! Besides, it's the least I could do! Remember when I felt that way? This could help her a lot!  
_

It went on like that nearly all day. She would decide on either yes or no for a while, and then get second thoughts on the decision- falling back into the original battle with herself, weighing the options carefully.  
It only got worse in Spanish. Though Santana didn't say anything to her, there was a moment where she first entered the classroom, and she had given Brittany a look. A look that was lacking a smile, but for a slight second the hard bitch facade that she wore in school cracked, and her eyes softened for the briefest moment.  
One could pass it as a smile. A smile between secret friends.  
That sent her toppling backwards- metaphorically. She reconsidered everything at that point.

Before she could rethink things yet again, she tapped Santana on the shoulder very lightly, while the class worked on a written assignment.

"Do you have an eraser?" Brittany asked quietly, feeling herself begin to chicken out- she clutched her fists underneath the desk.

Santana eyebrow quirked in a '_what are you up to_?' kind of way, "Ok...?" She said uncertainly before turning around for a moment to fetch her eraser from her red Cheerios pencil case.  
When she turned around again, she held her hand palm out with the white chunk resting in it.  
Brittany reached out to grab the eraser, and as she picked it up, very carefully, she replaced it with the small, crumpled and folded piece of paper that she had been clutching like a lifeline in her fist.  
Santana looked at it for a moment and then whisked around in her seat, hunching over as she read it, before tearing a corner from her own paper and jotting something down, and tossing it on her desk.  
She snatched up Santana's returned note and read it quickly;

_I can't. I have to hang out with head psycho on Saturday and if I blow her off again she'll suspect something._

So that was that.  
A relief and a disappointment all at once.

"Hey," Artie rolled up to her as she was walking to her locker to collect her bag and head home after school, "So I was wondering..." He said awkwardly, "If you wanted to come over later tonight? Play some marathon Halo?"

Basic Artie.  
Sometimes she wondered if he owned any other games.

"Uh, thanks Artie, but," She lied, not feeling up to hanging out with Artie today, "I've been feeling kind of sick all day. I think I need to go home and relax, sorry."

"Oh." He seemed slightly crestfallen, "That's alright. Feel better!" And he rolled off again.

Brittany actually did go home and run herself a hot bath; she felt terrible for lying to Artie, but she just really wasn't up to socializing right now. Was it because of the- very neutral- turn down from spending her Saturday with Santana? If it was, she absolutely should not be feeling this way. After all, Santana did have a point; Quinn would sense something if Santana blew off two weekends in a row with her.  
That, and, she knew Santana definitely should not feel inclined to hang out with her; at any point and time, really.  
To add to that, Brittany was already unsure about whether or not she should really ask; which probably meant she shouldn't. But whether she wanted to admit it or not, the possibility of Santana coming over on the weekend excited her- it was a buzz. A small one, but still a buzz.  
And now that it was a solid 'no', it was like a deflate.  
Like how Artie must have felt when she turned him down earlier today; she knew Artie had a blooming crush on her, but he was respectful enough to keep his distance since she had shown no signs of reciprocated interest.  
She almost pondered picking up her cellphone after dinner and texting the boy, telling him that she'd be over in twenty minutes to play that round of Halo after all- but the dark outside convinced her otherwise; it was too late now.  
So instead she made herself a cup of hot cocoa and curled up on her bed with the first Harry Potter on her lap; she hadn't read the series in ages. It was perhaps forty five minutes of uninterrupted peacefulness as the book kept her mind from wondering, before she heard her phone buzz across the room.

Sighing, she got up and retrieved it from her dresser, sliding it unlocked with it's clock boldly announcing that it was 9:38 pm.

_Hey_.

A singular text from Kurt.

_Hey, what's up? :)_

Nothing. But I WAS actually wondering something...

Curious and uncertain, Brittany furrowed her brow at the words on screen. Surely, this was going to have something to do with the topic of Santana; which was a topic she personally would like to avoid for a little while yet.

_And what was that? _  
She sighed audibly.

_I wanted to go see that new romantic comedy that just hit the theatres this weekend. And since Tina has to work this Saturday, I figured you'd be the next in line to be up for some Kristen Bell humor. Would you like to come with me?_

She wanted to groan aloud; not at the fact that it was a romantic comedy he wanted to see, because she found romantic comedies quite entertaining. But because there was that pressing feeling she sometimes got when she was irritated- that reminded her of her sudden inability to not be left alone for at least a weekend.  
However, blowing off both Artie and Kurt on the same day for her own selfish wants seemed completely shallow, so she agreed.

_Sure, Kurt. I'd love t-_

Her phone buzzed again as she typed.  
But Kurt hadn't sent anything.  
Brittany checked her inbox and felt her heart flutter; Santana.  
Santana had texted her.  
Immediately, she opened up her message, forgetting to answer Kurt's- and read;

_Hey,_

Almost exactly how the boy had greeted her.

_Hey  
_

She answered back, not wanting to seem too overly eager; but what could Santana be texting her for? Had she made up an excuse for Quinn on the weekend? Or did she just want to talk?

_What are you up to?_

It was funny how, a minute and a half ago, she was ready to topple over at even the thought of discussing or thinking about Santana again. However, now that the girl had texted her she felt like she was soaring with happiness.

_Nothing. Just reading, wbu?_

Oh, God- did that sound boring?

_Doesn't sound like you're busy. Did you know there was a meteor shower tonight?_

What?  
What, no, that's ridiculous, if there were- Artie would be all over it. She would be informed for sure!  
Still, something drug her over to the window; she peered out, straining to see any sign of lights streaking across the sky beautifully. But all she could see was cloud- the moon was struggling to make an appearence behind all of it.

_Are you sure? I don't see anything._

Positive! But it's super cloudy for the most part. Have you tried looking to the west? That's the only way I can see it from my place.

As a matter of fact, she hadn't tried looking to the west. Her bedroom and windows faced east of Lima.  
An inquisitiveness came over her; she was pretty sure that Santana must be playing some kind of trick, but she couldn't stop from seeing for herself. She carefully crept down the stairs (Her parents defininitely were not night owls. They often went to sleep around eight thirty.), and to the front door. Phone still in hand, she slipped into her jacket hanging in the shoe closet, and opened the door to stand on her front porch.  
She leered up at the sky, but not much was seen due to her foyer, so she descended the couple of steps to the lawn, still gazing up- hoping to see a streak.  
Nothing.

Confused as to what Santana would get out of tricking her, she unlocked her phone screen to reply;

_I looked, but I don't see anythi-_

"Gotcha." Came the amused voice from behind her; surprised, Brittany gasped and spun around on heel to see Santana leaning against the small fir tree in her front yard, smirking.

"Santana!" She didn't dare yell loudly, so she kept her tone hushed, "What the hell are you doing here?"

The Latina shrugged, completely unaffacted by Brittany's shock induced anger, "I like to get out of the house as often as I can. And tonight seemed like a lovely night for a walk."

"Yeah, but..." Brittany's temporary anger subsided into further inquiry, "Why _here_? Like, why not Quinn's? She's closer. I mean, Santana, my house is a long way to walk from Lima Heights..." _**  
**_  
"_Well_," The girl drawled, finally moving from her lean against the tree and walking towards her a couple of steps, "You _did_say you wanted to hang out with me earlier today, in case you've forgotten, Bi-Pierce."

"I meant on the weekend! In case you didn't piece that together." She imitated Santana weakly.

The girl gave off a small, low laugh, "I know._ Knew_. Whatever. But, I also figured it was time you lived a little bit."

"What? No, Santana- I don't want to go to another party- especially not on a Thursday night."

Santana made a slightly offended noise, "You always assume a party, don't you?"

Brittany nodded earnestly.

The other girl rolled her eyes before continuing, "No, I mean we're just going to go hang out after curfew. Well, _your _curfew."

"I don't have a curfew."

"Really? Shocking." Santana seemed honestly impressed with that fact, "Me neither. But I guess we're just going to go hang out while your parents don't know where you are then."

Brittany twisted her lips, everything told her it was a bad idea, and that she should refuse- but she just couldn't do that,

"Where? The Lima Bean?"

"God no," Santana shook her head, "But, c'mon," The girl started walking, waving her hand for Brittany to follow- which she did... hesitantly, "Just follow me, Bi-Pierce. I promise; nothing crazy. Just hanging out."

The streets were different at ten o'clock at night. Of course, the roads weren't dead; but she had never been out this late. Well, out walking, that is.  
Headlights of cars illuminated them, and Brittany tried her hardest not to look tired or yawn. Though the feeling was washing over her.  
The two of them were also completely silent; Santana leading confidently through the streets of Lima's small downtown- while Brittany trailed behind her, shivering in her coat. The Latina took an unexpected left, and the two began walking through Lima Central Park.

"See? A park. This isn't, like, badass. As you were expecting," She added, amused.

"We're going to hang out at the park? Santana, isn't this a bad idea? Aren't there hobo's here? What if they mug us or something?"

"Hah!" Santana laughed loudly, giving her a gentle shove, "This is why you're great, Bi-Pierce. You're so innocent. You're like a little martian or something."

Brittany just giggled nervously, unsure of how to respond. Santana just flopped down the ground, facing the stars; Brittany joined her. It was still cloudy above, but this side of Lima did seem clearer than the east.

"Nahh," Santana sighed after awhile, "There are no hobo's, though. Not here."

There was a comfortable silence. There was a new mood Santana was giving off; lightyears of difference compared to her attitude at school yesterday. It seemed like a calm made of several levels of things that just work at someone until being angry is too much.  
An intoxicating kind of calm.

"Do you come here much?" She finally asked the Latina, glancing at her, as she was still looking up into the oblivion above.

Santana nodded after another drawn moment of hush, "Yeah."

"You seem different." Brittany couldn't help but slip out.

"Different?" She seemed curious, "How?"

"Well, yesterday you were acting like Jack the Ripper... But now..." She groped her mind for words, "Now you seem... well, now it just seems like the most at ease I've ever seen you."

She expected Santana's features to harden; hell, maybe they did, but in the low light, she just couldn't see.  
However, when she spoke, it was still soft. Still calm. Still beautifully breathtaking.

"Maybe it's just the night. Who knows."

"Yeah, but," She propped up on one elbow, "Why were you so upset yesterday?"

This time, she heard a small intake of breath.  
And again, she was waiting for the snap that never came;

"I was playing with parts too fragile in the ending."

Brittany desperately wanted to ask what that meant; it was obvious that something was going on, and she wanted to console her. But Santana cut her off before she got a chance, "Let's just leave it at that, ok? For now. It's a long story."

So Brittany kept her mouth shut; though she still wanted to ask for answers, she would be quiet; because Santana didn't want to talk about it. And for Santana, she would respect it.

"Ok."

So they fell into the silence again for who knows how long. Perhaps under any other circumstances, it would be an awkward, uncomfortable kind of silence. But it still felt peaceful and very serene to her.

"I can't wait to leave this place." The girl finally sighed wistfully, as she continued looking at the stars and clouds.

Brittany glanced at her, "Yeah, me too."

"But it's like this town is a big giant vacuum of losers. I think everyone says that, but nobody has the... the... the _right stuff _to get out, you know? Who would _want _to live here, after all?"

Thinking about it now, she agreed. She knew many sad people here in Lima, who once had dreams of getting out and moving on- but never could.  
Look at her mother, for example.

"Where do you want to go?" Brittany inquired honestly; now that she was thinking about the future, she noticed how obviously blurred her own looked. She didn't even know what she wanted to do after highschool, and graduation was- what?- five, six months away?

"Somewhere big... New York... Toronto, L.A, even? I don't know. Just somewhere far away, but I haven't found the right place." Brittany nodded along to Santana's words; a city did sound nice after small hick town Lima.  
Lima, with it's narrow minded people, and grey atmosphere.

"But," The girl went on, "A lot of the time I feel like I'll never get out. I feel like I'm destined to be trapped here."

"Because you've never been anywhere else." She assured the girl quickly, "I mean... sometimes I feel like that. That this town is like a blackhole of unhappiness, but then I think... maybe because I've never known anything else? I've only ever known sad, Lima people, and I instantly think I'll end up like that. But reality is we are what we think, right?"

"...Maybe."

A breeze washed over the two of them, and Brittany shuddered, pulling her jacket closer to herself. Santana sensed her shiver and immediately scooted closer, slipping one arm under her back and the other across her waist, resting her head on her shoulder.  
Brittany did all she could not to gulp as the dry sensation hit her throat and she remembered what she had originally asked to hang out with Santana for. But no way it would happen now, here. Not in a cold park on Thursday night.  
Or maybe not even at all, on second thoughts. This was good enough.

"Thank you." The Latina mumbled.

"Yeah, no problem; you know I'm here." _Wow. Way to be sappy! _She scolded herself in frustration.

Santana squeezed her tighter, "You're here." She echoed, and for the first time since the two of them lay down on the grass, she looked into Brittany's eyes; and the girl's dark amber eyes let off more feelings than could ever be put into words. _  
_


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: Hello again everybody! Sorry, it was a longer wait than I hoped it to be! And I apologize in advance for the awkward way this chapter is written, it was picked and pecked at here and there over the entire course of the hiatus, and no matter how much I edit it I can't make it fluent. :/  
****But, good news! I can tell you that after this chapter is where the story will really begin to gain momentum. So, as always, enjoy!**

Imagine this for a moment; you're laying there, on your back under the stars as they blink into existence. Now imagine, that not far from you, lay the person you had grown to care a lot about- it doesn't have to be recently- but I don't know if you have ever been in the predicament where you had come to know someone in such a way that you felt that nothing they could say would make any difference to the amount you cared about them. It wasn't entirely a level of complete understanding of the person, but you knew that there were many sides to them- sides that probably a very few amount of people had ever witnessed. You trusted this person, and, in turn, they trusted you too.  
But hold on a moment, and continue the image; imagine looking down at yourself and, very suddenly, you notice something you'd never realized before; tied to your wrist, is a ribbon. Most likely a deep, silky red. This ribbon could stretch out very far, an infinite amount, and never break. Sure, there were times that your wrist would be tugged and nudged at as the opposite end of the ribbon called for it, but still, it never broke. Even if you were to take scissors to it, and forcibly snap it into two, it would remain to be- it would repair itself. Now, on the other end of this ribbon, was another person- they probably don't know that ribbon is there- no one can see it except for you. Yet it is tied in a neat bow on their wrist, just as it was yours.  
And you don't ever pick that person, it just happens.

Perhaps you can better understand now how Brittany came to feel within a few seconds; metaphorically, the ribbon materialized out of thin air right in front of her eyes, and on the other end; was Santana.  
It was a chemical reaction that stirred in her brain; suddenly, she was porcelain- perfect, and worthy.

"For anything," She murmured back, taking a deep breath, she looked into the sky. The two of them were in a silence, the only sounds coming from cars that would roll down the streets every now and again.  
_  
What a difference... _She thought with an inner chuckle; _Who would of thought that one day, Santana and I would be pretty much snuggling under the stars? God, no one! Not even me... Especially not me! _

This thought seemed to kick over a chain of dominos of other thoughts, to how it came to be this way... A few months ago, maybe? Is that when it started?  
Brittany rolled over memories recalling the past few months, wondering when, exactly, Santana Lopez had turned over a new leaf for her...

It was an eraser, wasn't it? Yes, it was. She remembered now; she was in Mr. Schue's classroom, and Santana had turned around, and asked for an eraser. She recalled being suspicious of her motives- it was a trick, surely? But it hadn't been. It had been a semi-friendly request, and that got her hopes flying, just because a Cheerio- especially one as high up the ladder as Santana had decided to talk to her instead of going out of her way to _not_ have to speak with someone like her. Of course, not long after she had sent her face into slush along with Puckerman, but, that was looked over now.

"Would now be a bad time to bring up something?" Brittany asked a little nervously, twiddling her thumbs and refusing to look Santana in the eyes.

"Nope, say anything." The girl replied. She made it sound so easy- where did Brittany evern start? By telling San that she took her own virginity in hopes to help her with her issue with her sexuality? Well, actually, might as well be blunt about it...

"I... If... Do you... uh..." She felt the achingly familiar flush to her skin as she thought about how ridiculous it sounded. Blunt also came with cold feet, apparently. She felt Santana tense a little bit on top of her, before she turned her head and eyed her with suspicious amusement, "Spit it out," She prompted.

"I..." It sounded a lot better in her head. She wanted to say the right things without making herself sound too creepy, or without triggering Santana's defensive wall back up again. Yes, she was definitely blushing.

"Spit it out..." Santana repeated a little bit more forcibly, with a dark look shadowing over her eyes.

"Uhh.." She tried again, still not feeling the right words to explain come to mind. It was just a mixture of blankness, and embarrassment with herself. Nonetheless, Santana seemed to understand what Brittany was initially trying to tell her. For a moment her eyes widened and her mouth fell into a small 'o' shape, clearly as the wheels spun and realization computed inside her skull.

"You..." She stuttered- coming back round to herself as her shock appeared to have fallen into satisfaction, her eyes gleaming again and her lips curling into a smirk, "You... You totally masturbated, didn't you?"

"No!" It was her first instinct; protect herself from further shame, defend herself. Until she scolded herself for lying, it would do her no good, and she continued, "Yeah..."

"Well, as fabulous as that is, why are you telling me?" Damn. Santana had figured out that she had masturbated, and she hoped she could get away with just that- but San was curious as to why she'd brought it up. And knowing Santana and her sixth sense, the girl pronbably had an idea about that, too.  
If there were literally gears in your brain, Brittany swore she would have heard them grinding and rolling against each other as she scanned her head for the appropriate words. It took a long while- and she still hadn't said anything. She could also feel Santana's eyes on her, watching her the whole time- as she lay there, both blanketed in a hush.

"You want to have sex with me." The other girl finally chopped through said silence with what seemed to be seven chainsaws; one in each word. It wasn't even a question, either. It was a statement. Her gears had pieced those things together as well.  
But still Brittany felt a need to attempt to cover her tracks with another lie- another excuse. But all that fell from her mouth was a tiny puff of air.  
There was literally nothing to say.  
Naturally, she took another long time to stumble over her mind for an answer about that- while Santana seemed just as content to watch her like a hawk. A hawk that appeared to be growing more and more impatient for that answer that Brittany was stumbling for.  
Santana shifted her weight, and moved position- a fear lurched into Brittany's stomach that San was moving, leaving her tight embrace on the grass and was about to set up her walls- high.  
In reality it was quite the opposite; Santana moved from her cuddling position to straddle Brittany's stomach, causing her to take in a sharp breath.

"What're you-?" She began. No way, there was no way Santana was doing this.

"Shh," Santana shushed, pressing her index finger to her lips softly, "Say it."

"Say what?"

"You know what." Santana leaned in, moving her head into an almost nuzzle against her neck- Brittany realized what she was doing as soon as she started doing it; she was trying to play hard to get. More or less, that is; she could tell by the way Santana _almost_ kissed her neck, the way her lips just ghosted her ear and by the way she refused to let any part of her body that didn't _have_ to be touching Brittany touch her, "Say it." She repeated.

Oddly enough, Brittany felt very smug- she knew what Santana was doing, and what she wanted. Santana thought she had all the power, but really Brittany could use it against her; she didn't have to say it. See, she could make it a game (One without Santana's knowledge), one where the rules were reversed; where it appears Brittany is the one playing hard to get. All she would have to do is keep her mouth shut, and watch Santana's impatience grow to just the right amount- then boom.  
What a strange want this is.

So Brittany pressed her lips together tightly, and not-so-sublty drew her attention away from Santana's lips near her ear to the other girls chest; watching it rise and fall as she took deep, slightly shaky breaths.

"Say it." Santana tried coaxing a third time, running her fingers gently along her neck, "I can guarantee that you won't be disappointed if you do."

And still she just watched the erratic rise and all of Santana's chest. It was actually quite odd to Brittany how fast a moment could go from something fluffy like cuddling to- from Brittany's perspective, anyway- each other wanting to feel skin against skin in a not so PG level.

She braved a peek up at Santana, whom had pulled away and stared down at her, her eyes dark with craving. Brittany still refused to say one of the statements Santana expected to hear; _fuck me_, or_ I want to fuck you.  
_In that moment a small staredown took place; it was tight and clear that they were both challenging each other to do something- anything! It was a push and bend situation that they were establishing.  
And Santana bent.

The other girl tore her shirt off without much grace, leaving her, still straddling Brittany in the cold nighttime air, with only a lacy black bra covering her. That left her ogling. In fact she had a hard time prying her gaze off of her breasts and back to Santana's face- and to no surprise the Latina was smirking.

"You wanna say it yet?"

Brittany had to admit; it was getting hard not to say it. That before dull distraction between her legs wasn't so dull anymore.

Santana must have tipped in to the girl beneath her's hitched breathing, as she tried a new tactic. She leaned forward the smallest bit, tangling on hand in Brittany's blonde locks, the other hand grabbed Brittany's own (Which she had restrained to keep to herself up until this point), guiding it to Santana's lower back, before depositing it there; and the other girl began to trace her fingers sensually along herself. She watched closely as Santanas fingertips glided up her toned stomach, over her bra straps and along her pantline- the whole time Brittany all too conscious of the warmth Santana's body let off. A furnace compared to the air around them.  
She could feel herself tensing as she continously had to stop herself from running her hands along Santana the same way she did to herself, it was a small torture even for her- she hoped her idea- her game- was having the same effect on Santana.  
As if on cue, San growled lowly in her throat as her fuse of patience burned even shorter; the girl, none too carefully, forced Brittany's head up; tugging her hair with the one hand, and pushing up the back of her head with the other. Brittany sqeaked at the abrupt and short-lived pain that brought her- but she wasn't even mad about it. In fact it may have turned her on even more, but she wasn't entirely sure considering all things.  
Santana held her Brittany there, forehead directly against her own, so they could feel how corrupted their breathing was by the hormones ripping through their bodies. Brittany was having difficulties on where to focus; she felt locked on Santana's dark eyes, but she also couldn't stop staring at the girls lips- not at all far from her own. Santana was ridiculously intact to every body movement she made, where her attention was, and yet she couldn't figure out Brittany's angle to not saying those words easily.  
The other girl tore into Brittany's eyes with her own- this time she couldn't look away; there was so much going on behind them, and above all an intense lust. Santana tipped her head just slightly, connecting their lips at a rate so slow it was painful- but when they did touch- Brittany no longer cared about '_hard to get'. _She wanted Santana _now_.

For a while, everything was a blur- once again she'd lost her glasses somewhere in the grass as the two kissed. It was during this period that all merged together- the two of them kissed with such a fire it could probably only be described as uncontrollable. Positions switched quickly and angrily- suprisingly enough- both of them fought for the upperhand; sometimes they rolled and she was on top- and then San- and back to her- back to San. A rollercoaster really. Though it was rushed and rough as they bit lips, Brittany knew it couldn't have been long before Santana almost literally ripped the girl on top of her's shirt off, and then slid her own pants off.  
Seeing Santana in nothing but a bra and panties gave Brittany an odd sense of vertigo- but the good kind- she felt like a Hollywood star, strangely enough; she felt hyped like she'd just shot up on drugs, or downed ten shots of whiskey. A superhuman amount of confidence.  
Keeping her hands to herself was now undoable; even as Santana slid off her jeans she held her waist, because it felt _so_ good to just be able to.

As soon as they were off, Santana had bowled her over and, once again, nearly physically teared off her pants, and lunged at her neck- sucking and biting.

She figured at this moment she may as well let Santana drive, per-se, because- after all, the other girl was much more experienced in the act of sex than she was. Even if it had never been with a girl. Brittany just continued to let her hands roam over Santana's smooth skin. The other girl made her way down her body, stopping at her underwear- (By complete fluke, Brittany was happy she'd worn her best pair). She felt somewhat hesitant of herself as the girl hooked her thumbs under the turqoise and black patterned pair of underwear, (To add to her happiness, Brittany was proud to admit that she kept a strong- perhaps borderline obsessive- hygiene below the equator. She was always shaved.) but the reluctance kicked in again- stronger this time. Self-consciousness crashed down on her like a load of bricks, and she abruptly jerked away from Santana.  
The other girl looked at her; confusion clouding her eyes; the kind that said; _what? I thought you were ready to do this!_

"I'm sorry." Brittany choked out- embarressment, self-conscience, and confusion tumbled down on her. Really, three minutes ago, she was ready- she didn't care, she was so turned on and attracted to Santana she was willing to have sex right out here on the grass. But seeing herself now, reminded her of everything that wasn't right with her. She wasn't going to lie; she was uncomfortable with her body. Not her stomach or legs, but her more intimate parts were a place where all her insecurities hid away.  
"I want to," Brittany assured Santana, as the other girl sat up- brow furrowed and looking upset at the change of pace, "But I can't- I just can't. I thought I was ready but I'm not- I wish I was, but-"

"Shut up," Santana shushed her, "Just... be quiet. I get it."

"I'm sorry," She continued to stutter, feeling shame balling up behind her eyes, "I am _so_ sorry- please don't be mad at me-"

"I'm not mad at you! I get it, I really do." Santana's voice lowered as she moved toward her discarded pants- she was being sincere, she could tell. It was obvious by the way she looked Brittany in the eyes as she told her she wasn't angry with her- even if Brittany felt too guilty to hold the look. It was obvious by the way Santana seemed to shrink into herself as all of her own insecurities rose to the surface of memory.  
Brittany bit her lip, moving toward her own clothes; goosebumps covering her skin from the cold air. She could tell a sickness would be the reward for this... colourful night.  
Santana put on her shirt and walked over to her; she was fully dressed by now too- she'd made a mad dash to try to cover all her skin- maybe she could cover up her dignity that way, too.

"Don't feel bad," Santana insisted, taking a seat beside her, "And believe me when I say I get it, too."  
She still couldn't muster up the courage to glance at Santana- even with all these clothes she still felt vulnerable. And that irritated her.  
Brittany heard San take a shaky breath, and shift beside her, "Please, look at me for a second."  
With reluctance, she turned her head in Santana's direction; but never looked her in the face, she just stared as blankly as she could at the other girls jeans. Santana sighed heavily, and Brittany watched the other girls hands toy with the bottom of her jeans, eventually rolling them up.

"What're you doi-"

"Look." Santana cut her off sharply, "I need you to trust me. _Trust _me when I say I get it; the world's a big, disgusting, hypocritical, miserable place. People- people are what makes it like that. The pressure that people are under is constant; and we're expected to please everybody. I know what it feels like-_ trust me, I know_- I know what it feels like to be_ alone_, at the bottom." The girl moved her hand to reveal dozens of scars over her ankle and heel; cuts made by razors or any other sharp object available at the moment. Brittany was aware of them since that day in the movie theatre, and whether or not Santana knew she was, it still impacted Brittany. Just knowing that if Santana _wasn't_ aware of Brittany's knowledge of them, she would be opening herself up to her now,  
"And I also really know that this isn't right. But if it helps to try to justify it; when I did it- it felt so right... Cut myself so I can feel something I know is not a lie. It's comforting, in a sick way."

"Do you still do it?" Rude. Disrespectful. The wrong thing to say. Idiot!  
She didn't even filter herself.

"...Yes." Santana's voice faltered.

"I'm sorry you have to do that." She looked up from the other girls ankles, the scars just visible in the faint streetlamp not far away. Santana was staring off into the darkness where the streetlamps didnt't touch.

"Whatever." She waved it off, turning back to Brittany, and rolling her pant leg back down. The Latina stood up, extending a hand to Brittany, and she took it thankfully; allowing Santana to help her to her feet.

"Just know that I get it," Santana continued, "I've slept with a lot of guys- and I regret it. I forced myself into it the first few times, and I definitely wasn't ready when I did it. I did it for all the wrong reasons- and looking back on it now, I wish I had waited..." She shrugged, "Can't do anything about it now. Life just goes on, shitty as ever... But can we get out of here now? That area over there is starting to creep me out."

She cracked a smile, "Because it's dark?"

Santana grinned back, a tiny blush rising to her cheeks, "Yeah. Oh, Britt, your glasses are about to fall off,"

Surprised, I pushed them up my nose, "Thanks."

Santana walked Brittany home- it was already twelve by the time she got in the door. But before Santana left for, as she said, Quinn's, she leant the girl a flashlight. They said their goodbyes, and Brittany crawled into bed- more exhasuted than she expected to be.  
But in a way, she preferred to be entirely wiped out rather than going to bed not feeling satisfied with the day before.

And being entirely wiped out seemed to go hand-in-hand with Santana.


	19. Chapter 19

**Hello again! Let me apologize for the other long wait; it's been a stressful couple of weeks, I'll admit. And when I did finally get in the right mindset for writing another couple chapters, my computer crashed... and if you know me well, you'll know I'm terrible at saving things. So there was that. That discouraged me for a while, as I am also a rather impatient person. So I had to rewrite this entire chapter; so it's written rather half-heartedly. There's a lot of dialogue in this one, and, forewarning, the next chapter is pretty intense on emotional type stuff. Anyways, as always, I hope you enjoy!**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That's insane." Brittany denied, shaking her head.

"No, it's not! Honest, scientists believe that squid can fly! All they would have to do is squirt a jet of water out of... out of their buttholes, or whatever- they would be able to glide through the air! Using their tentacles or whatever as propellers."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! Where did you find this out, huh? Did you read it on the internet? By the amount of 'whatever's' you used in that last sentence, I would assume so."

"... Yeah."

"I arrest my case. It's a load of crap, Santana. Squids cannot squirt water out their buttholes and fly."

Santana frowned, and flipped a page of the next Dead Sight she had asked to borrow. Evening was rolling in on this Friday night- Santana had stopped by unexpectedly; apparently there was a party at Puckerman's tonight. The other girl had asked her if she wanted to go, of course, but Brittany denied, remembering the few things from last time. When she questioned Santana about why she had stopped at her house instead of Quinn's, the girl had groaned and begun on a long tirade about how awful 'Quinntucky Fried Chicken' was. Long story short; after Santana's Satanic Rise during school on Wednesday, her and the head Cheerio were fighting (That was due to Santana, no surprise).  
Honestly it was fine with Brittany; in fact it was a pleasant surprise. Even Joel perked up when he saw her, and wouldn't quit bombarding her with questions until Brittany had to forcibly remove him from her bedroom. But what had actually intrigued her the most was Santana's reaction to it all; usually the girl would grin and try to answer every missile of a question he launched at her- but this time she had begun to look irritated after the first four or so.

"Hey, what time is it?" Santana wondered aloud, swiveling her head back and forth, searching for any kind of clock.

"Just past six," She told the other girl as she turned off her phone screen.

"I should probably start heading over there," Santana sighed, shutting the comic book and tossing it easily over to Brittany, whom was sitting on the bed, unlike Santana who just plopped down onto the carpet, "Bring that Monday."

She nodded before asking curiously, "Wait, the party is starting this early?"

"Puckerman like's to open shop early and end early. He has some odd personal goal of throwing a party epic enough to last twelve hours." Santana rolled her eyes, "It's so stupid- this isn't_ Project X. _It's only midnight by the time everyone is shitfaced."

Santana shrugged on her leather jacket, and secretly Brittany was kind of glad for Puckerman's ridiculous goals; see, she had already agreed she'd go with Kurt to see some Kristen Bell movie at seven thirty with him. But, she was just as guilty to admit that if the party was starting later she'd probably blow off Kurt just to hangout with Santana longer; even if they were only talking about things like squid butts.

"Oh." She said quietly.

Santana smirked playfully, "Don't sound so disappointed- there's free beer and good music!" The Latina gave a thumbs up as she began heading for the door, "Feel free to join."

"I'll pass, thanks."

"Hmm."

"Make good choices!" She called after Santana as she heard the dull sound of thuds on the stairs.

"Well, what'd you think of that?" Kurt inquired breathily as the three of them huddled into his car, away from the cold air outside. Unexpectedly, Sam had tagged along on their movie night. Part of Brittany wondered if he had thought that they were going to be watching a different movie than they were in reality. But, the blonde boy had sat in the theatre happily through the duration of the movie.

"It was alright," She shrugged, "I had higher expectations, though."

Sam just shrugged as well.

"I agree with you, Britt. I thought it would be a _little_ better than it was." Kurt sighed as he started the engine, allowing it to warm up for a few minutes, "So," He turned to face Brittany entirely, "Are we just heading to your place?"

"Uhh- sure! That should be fine..." Kurt had made no previous mention of heading to her house after the movie; she had just been expecting to be dropped off, and maybe take a bubble bath afterwards...

"Oh, we don't have to!" Kurt assured quickly, "We can just as easily go to my house. My dad won't care; as long as we're quiet enough to let him watch his _Deadliest Catch _shows and don't wake him up once he's gone to bed."

"Let's go to your place," Spending a night away from home sounded like an excellent option; she spent most of her time there anyways, and it had been a while since she had last visited Kurt's house. They had done renovation months ago and she still hadn't seen it! "But we'd need to stop at my house first; I need to ask my mom and pick up stuff anyways..."

"Done!" Kurt clapped his hands together enthusiastically, and beginning to pull out of the parking lot from his (rather impressive) parallel park, "Sam, do you need to ask your parents as well? Or do they know that you'll be spending the night somewhere?"

Brittany looked back at Sam sitting in the rear seat of the car. He shook his head, "No, she knows. I'll just text her to tell her I'll be at your house with Britt."

The rest of the car ride was mostly small talk; at one point a police car sped past them, and Brittany briefly wondered if it would have anything to do with Pukerman's party. After all, not much interesting things go down in Lima. The crimes that do happen usually happen in silence, and it's taken care of swiftly and carefully.  
So, after a hasty stop in front of her home; she ran in and asked about going to Kurt's, she agreed (Out of all her friends, she probably liked Kurt the most. Though her mother wasn't crazy about the idea, she knew of Brittany's sexuality; and to Mrs. Pierce, Kurt Hummel seemed like the last person she would have sex with. Thus making him the best of her friends. Not to mention his fashion sense!), and Brittany ran to her room, quickly tossing articles of clothing into a bag purchased at Lulu Lemon.

"Hey kids!" Burt greeted them with a giant grin on his face as the three entered the Hummel household. There was an immediate notice of how things had changed due to the renovations; they had taken out a wall between the living room and kitchen, for a more spacy appeal. That was the most obvious thing that had been altered.

"Hi dad!" Kurt answered just as happily, as she and Sam piped in their own 'Hello !'s.  
After a short bout of small talk, the three of them departed to the basement, where Kurt promptly laid out blankets on the floor until it was comfortable enough to relax on. She (and surprisingly Kurt) agreed that Sam could choose the first movie from the selection on the wall. They were mostly made up of musicals and romantic comedies anyways, so she assumed Kurt wouldn't mind his choice. While Sam browsed the many DVD's, Brittany and the brown haired boy chatted;

"So," Kurt lowered his voice, "How is your crush?"

"What?" She tried to deflect his course of action as she felt that ever irritating blush rise to her cheeks, "I don't know what you mean..."

Kurt, rolling his grey blue eyes, cocked his head to the side, "Britt- don't be stupid with me. I know you have a thing for Santana," He shrugged nonchalantly, "Even I will admit; she is one for the looks. _And_, I should know after I had to join your _'ladies night' _with her, that she actually isn't a reincarnated Lucifer as I previously thought. Only sometimes. I actually think she might be bipolar. Anyways- back on topic; I think it's cute you have a crush on her! It's unfortunate that she's straight."

_No, she's not._

She had to fight back a smirk too, with the thoughts in her head that;_ I made Santana Lopez question her sexuality..._ Even if it wasn't entirely her sole work alone, she felt cocky knowing that Santana had opened up to her about it.

"You're smirking. Why are you smirking?" Kurt deadpanned seriously, staring at her with wide, curiously frightened eyes.

"What? No I'm not. I was just thinking about a funny part of that movie!" Brittany lied, adding a small chuckle for affect, "You know, the part with the dog tearing open his pants?"

"_Uh-huh_..." Kurt hummed, disbelief layering his voice on several levels, "I won't even pretend I bought that one bit..."

"Seriously, Kurt! That's why I'm smiling! It was just so ridiculous!"

The boy just gave Brittany a pointed look, "Why are you lying to me? I have a sixth sense, I can tell when something's up."

"Why do you think I'm lying?"

"Because it's obvious. You're so bad at it."

"Guys!" Sam, oblivious to their conversation came running over, a big goofy grin plastered on his face, "I found _Transformers_!"

"_Transformers_?" Kurt echoed, slight disappointment edging his voice, "I didn't think we owned that... I suppose Finn left it here when he and Carol lived with us..."

It was nearly ten thirty when they popped in the DVD; before Kurt had insisted on making some low calorie sea salt popcorn and iced tea, which, as always, neither of them protested to.  
However, _Transformers _was an almost three hour movie; and at quarter to twelve she was nearly dozing off on the floor beside Sam as Kurt lay on his bed. Her attention caught when her phone buzzed on the floor beside her; and to no surprise, the text message came from Santana.  
That perked her intrigue even more.

**San: Brott, can I vome over to yiur hpuse? Can't find anuwhere ekse :(  
**  
Brittany felt her heart hit her chest particularly hard against her ribs, and her mind instantly began to race; she can't tell Santana no! She doesn't want to! But it's not like she was at home, and she also can't just leave Kurt's at quarter to twelve.

"_Kurt," _Brittany sat up, and shook the boy lightly on the shoulders.

"Hmmph?" The boy grunted, opening one eye.

"Kurt, Santana just drunk texted me. She needs somewhere to go."

"And you expect here?" He grumbled.

"Well, she hasn't got anywhere else... She asked if she could come to my place, but I'm here..." Maybe she was pleading. That's what it felt like she was doing, at least. Pleading him to let Santana- drunk- join them, solely for a place to crash.

"Britt..." Kurt began in that tone of voice that said;_ I wish I could say yes, but no_.

"If you let her come here; I will tell you everything!"

Blue eyes locked on blue for at least thirty seconds; another one of those push and bend situations. And Brittany was really ready to push.

Kurt sighed, exasperated, "Fine. But I am not picking her up; she needs to find her own way here- and she better not wake up my dad! And you will be completely responsible for her!"

"Ok, yes!" Brittany beamed, hugging her friend tight, "You're the best, Kurt!"

Kurt just mumbled something and nestled back into his blankets. She picked up her cellphone again, opening up her texting window; clicking on Santana's name;

**Me: Ok. But I am at Kurt's. Do you know where he lives? We can't pick you up.  
**

She sent it, and waited impatiently for the reply. It had already been five minutes since she had texted her before! Who knows what could have happened on Santana's end in the past five minutes? She could have found somewhere else to stay, or forgotten where she had put her phone.

**San: Yues, I kmow where he luves, Finn ysed to live thre.**

Me: Right. Well feel free to come here. But text me when you get here, ok? Don't knock- you might wake up his dad.

She didn't wait for an answer. Careful not to wake Sam, she rose to her feet, one of the many blankets draped over her shoulders, as she shuffled up the stairs. To be honest, Brittany didn't know exactly how far away Noah Puckerman's house was to Kurt's, but she didn't really care. It could be peaceful, to go sit out on the pathway to Kurt's front door surrounded in the blanket's veil of warmth.  
So she did; it was a clear night; stars blinked in the sky crisply, and somewhere in the distance she heard a car honking. For the most part, it was quite a silence. Her breath puffed slightly, a brief, unsaid clash between the heat of her breath clashing together, mixing, with the chill of the night air.

She wasn't entirely certain how long she sat on the grass, waiting, as well as wondering whether or not Santana had gotten lost; the nighttime kept her awake, though she felt exhausted. Brittany guessed it was about twenty minutes into the wait when she finally saw a stumbling figure picking her way down the street. Singing to herself drunkenly, hiccoughing at the same time.  
She was weepy drunk.

Sighing, she let out a two tuned whistle to let Santana know that she was waiting at this house, three to the other girls left.

"Over here, buddy," She called quietly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes in exhaustion while also contemplating how much it felt like she was summoning a dog. In the distance, she only faintly heard the other girl reciprocate with a small noise and a hiccup.  
Brittany sighed again, hopefully she would be able to claw out enough effort to deal with drunk Santana through all this fatigue her body was currently experiencing. On any other day, she would have walked over to the other girl to help her stumble and sway her way to the front door, but this time, she just instead stood and observed with a detached sort of curiosity- but mostly hoping Santana wouldn't fall flat on her face on the way over to her.

"Almost there," She offered with as much encouragement as she could muster, "You can do it... A few more steps..."

Santana, hugging her own arms against the cold, blundered onto the lawn. She switched arm positions abruptly, in a very child-like outstretch and grab for Brittany, she snatched her and pulled her into a borderline strangle embrace.

"Oh!" Brittany let out in surprise, "Hello..!"

Santana sobbed into her shoulder.

She swallowed awkwardly, willing for the stiffness in her body to leave. She wanted to ask what was wrong, though she knew that this was how Santana got when she was really drunk. But still. There could've been a trigger, but Brittany also wondered if the tears just sort of _appeared_. **  
**  
"How was Puck's six hundredth failed attempt at a _Project X _remake?"

Santana was still sobbing lightly onto her shoulder, her body quaking from trying to keep them somewhat silent. After about a minute without an answer, she continued, "Ok... I'm going to take you inside now, but you have to be quiet, alright? There are people sleeping."

She felt the other girl nod, so she lead her inside the house. The warmth felt great on her skin after the chilly outside.  
She continued to direct Santana through the house, into the basement, where Kurt and Sam were both fast asleep, and the credits from _Transformers_ were rolling along the screen, giving the room barely any light.  
Brittany caught Santana- twice - as they maneuvered throughout the basement, and finally, into the laundry room/bathroom.

"You'll be sleeping in here," She told the Latina as she helped her sit down on the floor carefully, "As I'm sure you'll be throwing up within a three hour period. Now, hold on, I'm going to get you some blankets..." Brittany walked to the bed she and Sam had been sharing; sacrificing two blankets and pillows from her side and returning to the dark linoleum room, where she found Santana desperately trying to stifle her sobs into the back of her hand.

_Maybe I can cheer her up enough to be able to sleep without soaking Kurt's pillows in tears...  
_Clinging to that idea, she gently tossed the two blankets at Santana, covering her completely.

"Alright, let's get you ready for bed," She ushered the other girl a little bit farther back to the wall so she could lay out the blankets. Brittany also made sure to soothingly stroke Santana's hair a few times, as she figured it would be no harm because it's not like Santana would remember in the morning anyways.  
Part of her still felt silly on restricting her affections towards Santana. As herself however, it felt like she shouldn't be allowed to show love to people more than a friend- because she felt like nobody would ever reciprocate those acts back to her.  
_That's self-consciousness for you_, she supposed.

Brittany lay out the thicker of the blankets onto the floor, smoothing out the corners and fluffing the pillows. She then lay down the fuzzy blanket on top.

"And let's get you out of those jeans and that, uhmm..." She searched for the right word as she observed Santana's top while trying not to ogle, "Ridiculously tight top. That must feel like a boa constrictor, or something..."

Santana sniffed, "Yeah," She nodded.

"Ok," Brittany put her arms up into the air as an example, "Up."

Santana lifted her arms. Brittany, both uncomfortable and pleased at the same time, searched for the bottom of the shirt in the dark- her fingers her only form of sight besides the some small silhouttes that she could make out of Santana, the washer, the toilet, shower...  
She finally found the bottom of the shirt and tugged it upwards- it was so close against the other girls body that it took at least three tries to even get it to Santana's chest area.

"Oh, God, I hope you're wearing a bra," Brittany muttered as the possibility struck her; moving her fingers around the hem of the shirt to the front, so she could hoist it over her breasts easily. Of course, all the while her blushing curse was in full swing, but it was nearly pitch black so she tried not to think of it much.

"No, you don't." Santana replied matter-of-factly, her voice still thick with tears, but yet it had retained the mischevious cockiness Santana had in her sober life.

Brittany's head snapped up quickly; Santana was staring at her, she could tell. Even in the dark, she could tell that the other girl's eyes were piercing her own.  
She swore her heart stopped for a minute; maybe it was Santana's words, or the staredown she knew was taking place; hell, maybe it was just because of the admittedly true fact behind what Santana had said.  
Either way, she pulled herself together and found her tongue in her own mouth again;

"I hope you're wearing a bra right _now_." She went on, trying to get the shirt over Santana's breasts again while trying not to think that '_her boobs are right there'_.

"Right _now_?" Santana echoed playfully.

"Well somebody's feeling a lot better now, aren't they?" Brittany attempted to change the topic, urging the tight shirt upwards again. (Also coming to the conclusion that yes, she is wearing a bra.) "Holy shit, how did you even get this_ on_?"

"Yeah, I _am_ feeling better now." Santana's hands came up to Brittany's arms, running her fingernails down them slowly, lightly.

"It still manages to surprise me how fast you can go from weeping to horny," Brittany gave her best shot at ignoring the goosebumps her nails sent along her arms, and the own feeling beginning to grow inside of her.

"Practice." The other girl sighed as she finally managed to pull the shirt off over Santana's head.

"Mhmm. Well, let's keep it practice, 'k?"

"You want to know something?" Santana inquired with a very innocent tone to her voice.

"Sure. But I need to know something first; do you _need _any assistance with your pants? Or have you got it?"

Santana's hands, which had still been resting on Brittany's upper arms began to travel to her waist, "I think I need some help," She gently, yet forcefully guided Brittany to her knees, making faux grinding movements at her.

"You're disgusting. I think you can do it yourself," She couldn't help but giggle at the forwardness of 'Drunk Horny Santana Lopez'.

"You asked," Santana grumbled with disappointment as she began to shimmy out of her own jeans. Brittany watched alertly, from down here it was a lot more obvious how Santana was drunkly swaying. And though it would be hilarious to see her fall, she didn't want that to happen.  
The girl did make it through without falling, and Brittany stood up, this time guiding Santana down to sit on the toilet, "Stay," She told her, "You've got makeup on, I'm sure. Am I right?"

"Yeah."

"Ok." Brittany took two steps over to the sink, opening up the cupboard/ mirror above it and pulling out a face cloth, and wetting began to wet it. For one of the first times, she was disappointed that Kurt wasn't a girl; because if he were, he'd probably have some high quality makeup remover lying around.

Making her way back over to Santana, she leaned over slightly and began to wipe her face as best as she could in the dark, "Tell me if I'm pressing to hard,"

"Wanky."

"Shut up." She laughed, swatting at her playfully.

"But I still need to tell you something!"

"Shh! Tell me, then."

"Ok. So, at Puck's house, me and him started having sex," Brittany winced; a motion brought on from a mixture of disgust at the mental image, and emotional jealousy, "But I didn't really even want to have sex. It wasn't rape or anything, but I just wanted to have sex to get my mind off of stuff. Because I was really upset thinking about how much my life is shit; with Marie living full time at some old people's place now, and how fucked up my own past is and-"

She broke off. Brittany froze, letting the small tidbits of information sink in, while at the same time getting the eerie feeling that Santana was about to burst into tears again.

"And anyways... So we started having sex. It wasn't too long, I think it was just starting to get good for him; but then I thought some more. Not about my shitty house and past, though. I started thinking about _you_. So I left. I drank some more and then looked for a place to crash because I didn't want to crash at Puck's after walking out _during _sex."

"...Oh..." She wasn't sure what she should say. She wasn't sure to feel sad or flattered. She also wasn't entirely sure with what Santana was trying to tell her. Surely, it had something to do with being horny and wanting to have sex, but she must know that they can't have it here. In Kurt's bathroom with him and Sam in the other room, and his dad upstairs. No matter how hot that would be.

"Well, uhh..." She scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, "Thanks? But uhm... I really don't know what exactly you're trying to tell me with that..."

"I'm saying," Santana wrapped her arms around her waist once again, "That it's not fair that you're fully clothed," Her fingers slipped under the hem of Brittany's pyjama shirt, tugging it up.  
She sucked in a breath; unsure whether or not to stop the other girl from undressing her. She was wearing a bra and underwear, as she had the quirk of feeling uncomfortable during a sleepover if she wasn't.  
Brittany really wanted to let Santana pull the shirt off over her head, but at the same time she knew that would be leading Santana on. She had no plans of sex right now, not at this instant.

"Wait," She said shakily, putting a hand on top of Santana's. The other girl stopped dead in her tracks, stiffening completely. Brittany took a deep breath, hoping her words were together, "I'll let you take off my shirt and pants. But we're not having sex. Not right now."

She patiently waited as Santana seemed to process the information. She felt the other girls hands soften slightly on her skin; they had lost the urgency and anticipation of sex; Brittany wasn't sure how to take that.

"Ok." Santana finally whispered.  
So Brittany allowed the Latina to remove her top and pyjama bottoms. She could also tell that the other girl was saddened by this; every now and again she heard her sniff, as she still had alcohol coursing through her veins, and was an unstable amount of emotions, stacked together in the shape of a girl.

"It's not that I don't want to," She finally built up the courage to reassure; _she's drunk, she won't remember this anyways. I'm reassuring drunk Santana... _"Because I really do. But not right now; the timings never right."

"You can't always wait for things." Santana said, her hands still resting on Brittany's now exposed waist.

"I know..." Santana had a point, "But, whenever we both really want to; there are other people around, or we're in public..."

The other girl was silent. Brittany stood there with her for about five minutes longer, before her burnout kicked in again, and she yawned; "San, I'm going to head to bed now,"

"Please don't go," Santana interrupted quickly, her voice wavering, "It's dark in here."

Brittany smiled, and bent over to hug Santana, "Right. I'll stay."


	20. Chapter 20

**Happyy Thursday everyone! Sorry updates have been taking so long lately, but I'm still getting 'em done! Alright, so FOREWARNING you're going to be learning a lot about Santana's past which involves sexual abuse. If you find that part feel free to skip it.  
****A bit of a jumpy chapter. But, as always, I hope you enjoy- and review to let me know how I'm doing! Reviews make me happy (:**

Brittany groggily came around to wakefulness. She was still laying on the floor of Kurt's bathroom in nothing but her bra and underwear beside Santana; her back was sore, and the room smelled of stale vomit (She had been awoken twice in the night by the sound of Santana throwing up, and though exhausted, she made her move to hold the other girls hair back as she retched into the toilet. This was also the first time she really understood Kurt's past need for the 'Whisper 2009' brand of toilet. That thing really made no sound as it flushed, it was actually quite magical.), and the room was a very muted gray. Indicating that it was probably somewhere between five to five thirty am.  
She huffed silently, loathing her horrible sleep- but it's not like she could do anything about it anyways.  
Brittany rolled over; her skin rubbing up against Santana's own warm flesh; which, of course, caused her to blush. But she just closed her eyes and tried to ignore it, hopefully the comfortable warmth beside her would help her fall back into oblivion again.

Although, last night she'd had the strangest kind of dream. And it wasn't even the typical, wacky, eccentric dream to be expected when one would say that they had a strange dream; it was weird because it seemed to make a lot of sense; but it was portrayed in an abstract way.  
She had dreamt that she was in the parking lot of the school; she didn't know what had happened, but she knew something terrible had happened. The trance had that atmosphere about itself; that something very upsetting had happened in her life. So, she was in the school parking lot, and it had started to rain very lightly; she looked up into the sky, and though it was gray overcast; she imagined it as red, because it seemed that the everythingness of her life in her dream had crashed down on her. It was red for cancer, red for the wealthy people- spending day after day buying things that would try to make them happy, so they could impress people they didn't even like- but they were never quite pleased. And red for the drinks mixed with suicide all around the world.  
Reviewing the dream now, it seemed somewhat pointless to her- but during the head trip, she accepted everything that was happening, it all made the most sense.

Sighing inwardly, Brittany tried once again to resettle herself in the blankets. But there was really no comfy way to do it; Santana was a blanket hog, and one of Brittany's feet were poking out into the chillier air outside of the covers and body heat.  
Santana stirred beside her, rolling over as well, so their faces were directing toward eachother. She couldn't help but look at her, mere inches away. Clearly, she hadn't done a very good job at wiping the makeup off of her face last night; Santana still had eye makeup on, though it had gotten greasy now, and the little mascara left from the crying had clumped on her lashes. Not to mention the still faint stains on the other girls cheeks from it.  
These closed eyes rolled and fluttered; blinking to the light, and then flicking up at her.

"You're staring at me," Santana grumbled, closing them again.

Color flitted up to her cheeks again, "Sorry. I was criticizing my bad handiwork. You know, with the whole cleaning the makeup off your face."

Eyes still shut, Santana shrugged, "Whatever. It's no big deal, I always go to sleep with it on when I'm drunk anyways."

Brittany wasn't entirely sure how to respond, so she just remained quiet; noting that Santana didn't bother to move over any bit at all. But then again, neither did she.

"What time is it?" Santana inquired, sitting up and rubbing her eyes sleepily. Brittany tried not to stare at the faint scars on the sides of the Latina's torso, and the fresher scars that could be seen close to her armpit.

"I think it's five. And could you keep your voice down a little? There are other people sleeping here, too."

Santana looked over at her, eyes narrowed slightly, but she rested beside Brittany again, "What happened? I don't remember shit."

"_Well_," Brittany whispered, "You texted me saying you didn't have anywhere to go, and I was at Kurt's so- after asking- you came here. He and Sam are asleep in the other room. Uhh, you were crying a lot, and I decided to make you a bed in here, because I knew you would throw up-"

"-I remember that-"

"-and then I had to help you get undressed. In which you implied you wanted to have sex with me-"

"-And I'm sure you loved that I implied that I wanted to-"

"-and then you told me some... _stuff_. And lastly, you begged me to sleep in here with you because you're afraid of the dark."

Santana's lips tightened into a displeased line, "What kind of _stuff_ did I tell you?"

She felt the common feeling of awkwardness crawling up her spine; fear that Santana would snap at her. Of course, Brittany understood that if this were to be the case, she knew it wouldn't be her own fault, but an outburst caused by Santana's anger at herself. But, Brittany also knew that she would blame herself. She'd find a way, because that's the kind of person she was.

"Uhh... Something... Something about your sister, and Puck..."

"Would you care to define what about my sister and Puck I talked about?" Santana whispered, her patience evidently wearing thin and a pointed glare being shot her way.

"Uhh... Well, you said something about how you started having sex with Puck or whatever... But you didn't really want to, you only wanted to to get your mind off of things... and uuhh... You left midway through because you said you couldn't stop thinking about... uhm... me... And I dunno you told me something about your sister living at some old people's house, or something?"

Santana's mouth hung open the smallest bit; it was clear that she was searching for the right words to say. Funny- the witty Latina, whom was quick with her words was speechless!  
Brittany tried to convince herself that it was just a drawback to Santana's hangover, instead of something that may actually be very important.

A stirring and faint grunt in the room beside them startled her, and, maybe it was instinct; but she plopped back down onto the uncomfortable makeshift bed, "Pretend to be asleep!" She hissed urgently.  
Honestly, she wasn't sure why; but she just didn't feel like drawing attention to either of them. Maybe it was because she just realized that her clothes, along with Santana's, were strewn all over the floor.  
The other girl lay back down too she saw from the corner of her eye as she rolled over to face the door; just peeking out from under her eyelashes. Either Sam or Kurt had woken up; and by the sounds of it, they were making their way over to the bathroom.  
The door, ajar just a crack, showed movements on the other side. Brittany watched the shadow move around, and the footsteps- though quiet- draw nearer.

Sam pushed open the door lightly; eyes sleepy, yet face confused- blonde hair messy.  
He halted in his tracks as soon as he opened the door however, staring down at the two of them- brain still foggy as he tried to piece together the scene.

"Oh my God!" She couldn't help but squeal as she noticed something else; the tent in Sam's pyjama pants. Brittany's hands flew up and covered her eyes, along with a swift movement of rolling over and ducking her head into herself.

"Jesus Christ!" Sam echoed in shock; Brittany heard him stumble and Santana start laughing hysterically beside her; "Holy shit, Britt! He fucking fell!" Santana rolled around comically, holding her stomach while her body was wracked with giggles.  
"You see?" The other girl went on, "This is why I don't have sleepovers with boys!"

"Stop!" She shoved Santana lightly; the other girl- she found humor in the situation and was completely unfazed by Sam walking into the bathroom to try to rid his erection- while Brittany was sure to be mentally scarred by it.

"I think it's time you learned a few things, Pierce," Santana sighed; though her tone backshadowed a miniscule amount of her 'fake' school bully self. Her self with walls. But most of her voice showed that she was very exhausted- and not in the hangover way.  
The kind of exhaustion that showed emotional defeat. In fact, it was the first thing she had said to her since they had started walking back to her house.

Not long after the semi-traumatic experience with Sam in the bathroom (The screaming had awoken Kurt), they had left. But first Kurt had insisted a breakfast consisting of oatmeal and fresh strawberries, and then she prepared Santana to leave. They decided on going to her house for now, as it was still eight in the morning, and the other girl had informed her that she didn't feel like going back to her own home.  
She was unsure about what Santana ahd drunkenly told her, but she didn't feel it would be right to pry or argue with her with questions.  
Now, her home was in sight, and the other girl decided to pipe up.

"Alright," Brittany nodded stiffly; she wasn't sure what she was about to hear; and part of her didn't know if she really wanted to hear it. The whole thing had brought on a bad demeanour, "But hold on; I think everyone's home. So we'll go up to my room..."

She pushed open her front door; where she was immediately engulfed by the loud sounds of the television playing cartoons.

"Mom?" She called, kicking off her shoes, "Mom- Santana's here. I don't know how long she's gonna stay, is that alright?"

Mrs. Pierce popped her head out of the kitchen, she was holding a bowl, stirring something inside of it; "Of course, honey! She can stay as long as she wants!"

"Thanks-"

"Oh, Brittany, kitten; your glasses are about to fall off."

"Oh," She puffed, pushing them up and ducking her head so her mom wouldn't see her blush; she absolutely resented it when her mom called her 'kitten'.

It was strange; something on her glasses broke that night in the park when they fell off. But something else inside her seemed to have become off kilter since that night as well- she could feel it. Something inside her changed.  
It was like some sort of metaphor.

She lead Santana up the stairs; still no sign of Joel or Garrett- which she was thankful for.

She locked the door behind her.

"Right," Santana said, looking completely awkward and out of place as she sat down beside Lord Tubbington on her bed. Brittany wanted to hug her- but once again, she had that felling in her gut that she shouldn't do that. So instead she just sat down on her carpet, legs crossed.

"Let me just think of where to start..." Santana licked her lips, "I- I don't want to overwhelm you or anything, but I feel like you should... you know, like you should _know_. Because; let's face it; I've been an ass to you for _so long_. So... so you kind of deserve to know, right?"

"You don't- you don't have to tell me. Not if you don't want to," She assured Santana quickly

"- No but I want you to know." Santana countered just hastily, "Alright, well... You should know that my parents- uhm... well, my dad was an alcoholic," _Was? _Brittany thought, a small bubble of panic for Santana rising in her chest, "So he and my mom divorced when I was ten- when she was pregnant with Marie. I lived with my mom until I was twelve- but then she got in a car accident and," Santana fidgeted with her thumbs uneasily,  
"_And_, she passed away. At the time my aunt and uncle were recovered heroin addicts." Brittany heard the other girl sniff, and her voice run thicker. Sympathetic, she placed a hand comfortingly on the other girl's knee- which Santana shrugged away, "So me and Marie moved in with them; because they were the only family we had left. I don't have any grandparents and my dad was an only child- and incapable of being a caretaker anyways._ But_... when I was just about fourteen, they got back on their habits. There was nothing I could do- and yeah it was fucking terrifying coming home and seeing them all out of it... But, I mean, I learned to live with it."  
She saw a tear fall from Santana's cheek heavily, "I'm not going to fast for you, am I?"

"I'm keeping up," Brittany mumbled; she was numb with emotions for the poor girl. Santana. She was the way she was for a reason- she always knew that, but now she _knew_. _  
_  
"Good," Santana laughed dryly, "Because crap's about to turn into shit... When I was fifteen, I came home from Quinn's- she's the only one until now that I've ever let know about all... _this_." The girl made a vague hand gesture, "But I came home from her place; and the house smelled- more than usual. I knew that they had been shooting up. I never saw my aunt that night, but I saw my uncle. Later, I found out that he didn't do heroin this time; this time he did fucking Dice-"

"Pardon?" She asked quietly; in her small range of drugs she knew, she wasn't sure what 'Dice' was.

For the first time, Santana looked up at her; her eyes were red, and the little mascara left on her eyes was streaking her face again; "Crack." She spat, "Jelly Beans. Cloud. Primetime. Topo. Crumbs."

"Oh..."

"And I feel that I should give you some insight then; that shit causes hallucinations, nausea, paranoia, convulsions, loss of appetite," As the other girl listed the symptoms, most unnecessary, because she remembered learning about these drugs in the ninth grade- her voice got angrier, "contracted blood vessels- the list goes on and on- erratic, violent behaviour."  
The Latina paused; Brittany watched her clench and unclench her fists full of her blanket she had begun clutching.  
"The first thing I did was look for Marie, of course. And she was fine; she was just sitting in our room- it felt like she was completely unaware with what was happening." Santana smiled weakly when recalling the memory,  
"She was six- so what do you expect? She probably didn't. Or at least I like to think that. So, I closed the door and sat down with her; she handed me a Barbie, and I started brushing it's hair... Mom died when she was just a baby; and she was only four when my aunt and uncle started up again; so I've always tried to provide her a- a stable life." Santana shook her head lightly, and bit her lip. Aware of a warmth rolling down her own two cheeks, Brittany wiped the tears away heedlessly.  
"But, it was only so long before I heard my uncle call me. Jesus, I knew he was out of it; I could tell. I should've just locked the door and escaped through the window or something; but being a scared, obedient little idiot; I told Marie to stay where she was, and went to him. I- I can still remember the clammy feeling on my palms and how bad I was shaking. Like I said; it happened a lot, but it still scared me. I asked him what he wanted, and, next thing _I_ knew; he was holding my shoulders- so tight that I thought he was going to break my bones."

Brittany found herself shaking her head. She didn't want this to happen. Not to Santana. But it did- she knew it did.

"And can you believe that I _asked_ him to stop? I didn't_ tell _him- I fucking _asked_ him. Because I was afraid of getting hurt. Well, that didn't exactly help; because he pulled me by the hair into the bedroom-"

"Please stop," She begged; all she wanted to do was cover her ears, but some physical force was preventing her.

"You see what's coming, don't you?" Santana cracked a sad, sideways smile, "Well... It happened. I was screaming and begging him to stop; and this lead Marie to eventually seek me out- and as I was there, crying, she came in the doorway. She asked me if I was ok- what's happening- what's he doing- and I had to fucking tell her; _it's ok, go back to your room and close the door behind you_."

Brittany took off her glasses so she could wipe feverisly away at the tears burning at her under her eyelids.

"After that, I started cutting," Santana's voice broke violently, "And I really can't stop. But last week... last week, things got really bad again. Uncle Jim was in a fit, so he smashed a lamp over Marie's head. I... I can't tell anyone about it- but I sent her to go stay with some old people down the road; told them the house was just disgusting and we needed to do some renovations for 'health reasons'. I can't tell anyone else," Santana shook her head, digging the heels of her hands into her eyes as she cried, which, in turn, was making Brittany cry harder.  
"I don't want anyone to take her away. It's so hard to be a foster kid- let alone get a foster parent who wants to support two kids at once. This town is full of shitheads who don't think like that,"

Brittany nodded, understanding. She rose shakily to her feet and wrapped her arms around the other girl in a hug.

"Shh!" She tried to soothe the now sobbing girl, as the cries wouldn't stop escaping either of their throats. As she held Santana, she really let it all absorb- while all the mental images were still scorching the back of her skull horribly- but she knew it was nothing compared to the emotional, psychological, social, and physical traumas it had afforded her...  
Her best friend.

Afterwards she offered Santana to stay the night at her house, as emotional mess that had somewhat erupted from her seemed to have taken a strain on the other girl. That, and Brittany assumed that it the recalling of past experiences would probably make her want to return to her broken home even less.  
So, she very carefully wove out a well-worded plan with her mother; she told the older blonde woman that Santana's parents were 'Having some issues. Don't bring it up, please. But would she be able to stay here tonight? And any other night she feels she needs?'  
It was hesitant, and her mother fired many questions such as 'What kind of family problems?', in which Brittany sidestepped with precision each time. After some time, her mother finally caved in and allowed Santana the priviledge.

Brittany returned up to her bedroom (It had taken fifteen minutes for the whole ordeal with her mother to go down) to find Santana sitting on her bed, the discarded Dead Sight comic she had been looking at yesterday after school open on her lap, eyes still red.  
She didn't bother talking to Santana; she decided some space to recompose herself is what the other girl wanted; she knew what Santana was like. She was proud. She didn't like breaking in front of people- that's why she had walls so high- Brittany knew Santana felt more comfortable with those walls up, so she'd allow her to rebuild it. Solely because she had a feeling- a sense- that every time Santana rebuilt those barriers; she rebuilt them a little bit smaller. A little less bricks.

"I better go," The Latina huffed, sounding dishelved as she fidgeted with the shirt Brittany had lent to her- as it was Sunday afternoon, and the other girl had already been wearing her party clothes for two days straight.

"Why?" She inquired- previously the two of them had been watching _Teen Mom _while sprawled across her couch. They temporarily had the house to themselves as her parental figures were both working and Joel- along with one of his friends- was playing soccer in the backyard.

"Cause I can't just disappear of the face of the Earth. They'll get suspicious. Besides," The girl stood up and stretched, "I better check up on Marie at the Crumpton's."

"But-"

"No buts! You'll see me tomorrow," She muttered, "I figure if I slowly just start disappearing more and more- and eventually I just don't come home- they won't even bother."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Well... do you want a ride?"

"You don't have a car." Santana rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, but, I could get Kurt to drive-"

"No!" The girl snapped, "Listen, I trust you! You can't let anyone else know, ok? It's embarrassing. You're the only one who knows about... that. Sure, Quinn and Puck know that I live with my addict Aunt and Uncle, but they didn't tell people-"

"I won't tell people!" She assured Santana quickly, hearing the panic rise in her voice, "I was just saying Kurt could drive you to the hill and you could walk from there..."

"Thanks. But no, I'll walk. I like walking."

Monday was chilly. She was hoping that summer was on it's way, but that proved to be a foolish desire.  
She left in the morning wearing a thick hoodie against the drizzle of the rain, pushing up her glasses. Ever since that night in the park, she always wondered how the glasses could've broken in such a way that they always slid down the bridge of her nose- like her old pair.

"Morning, Britt." Kurt greeted her lightly in the hallway, "We need to have a meeting today."

"What?" Brittany asked airily, as she was busy spying the longest peek she could afford at Santana down the hallway, with Puck.

"A meeting? You. Me. Sam. Tina. Artie."

"It can't wait until Comic Book Club?"

"No, it cannot!" Kurt attempted to look as discreet as possible as a jock passed him, slushy in hand, "We were thinking at long break in the choir room."

"Why the choir room?" Something felt very off about Kurt's behaviour.

"Because no one is ever in there!"

"Alright, alright!" Brittany exclaimed as the first period bell rang, "I'll see you then."

"It is _very. important_."


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: Hellooo guys! Short, jumpy chapter with lots of dialogue ahead. It's jumpy because there were lots of little tidbits I needed to cover, and as well I wanted to kind of mirror how hectic Brittany is feeling with all this stuff- like everything is moving too fast. As always, enjoy! :)**

**4.**

"Alright, what is it?" She asked aloud, seeing the Sam and Kurt sitting in the choir room chairs. The memory of Sam in the bathroom flooded through her mind, causing her curse of blushing to pop up once again- but she tried desperately to push away the thought.

"I'll leave you two," Kurt said with a smirk, excusing himself from the room.

"Whoa! Hey, Kurt, hold up," She grabbed Kurt's jacket lightly, "What's going on?" She whispered, "I thought you said it was a meeting with all of us?"

The boy just carefully removed her hand from his jean jacket before leaving the room. Brittany swallowed dryly; something seemed very suspicious about this, and it had her agitated.  
She turned to Sam, hoping for an explanation. The blonde boy stood, smiling sideways- nervously- by the looksof things.

"Hi," Sam greeted, sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"Hi?" Brittany answered unsurely. By his demeanour, and Kurt's fishy attitude- she had a feeling what was going on here. And that stressed her out; she could hear her heart beating rapidly against her ribs, and her palms begin to get clammy.

"So, I don't know how to do this; so I'm just going to say it; do you want to be my girlfriend? I really, _really_ like you- I've liked you for a long time, but I've always been too shy to say it..."

_Please, dear God- why does this have to be happening now? Why now with all the stuff with Santana? I like her so much- but I can't say no to Sam! That'll crush him! Look at him- look at how nervous he is! It would be cruel to say no! But... Santana..._

"Britt? Can you say something, please?" He pleaded, his smile fading.

_He knows I'm rejecting him!_

"J-Jasmine! What about Jasmine?" It was the only thing she could think of as a stall.

The blonde boy shrugged, "I dunno... I dated her for a while- and even though she was kind of a bitch sometimes, I liked her... but I couldn't _like_ her, you know? We haven't been dating for a while..." He twisted his lips.

"Oh..." _You better act fast! You'll kill him if you say no! _"Ok. Yeah- yeah, of course I'll be your girlfriend, Sam!" The fake smile she plastered on her face physically made her feel disgusting.  
_Now what? I'm not going to be very happy with him! I like being his _friend_. Only his friend... _

But Sam radiated happiness, "Really?"

"Yeah! Of course!"

And before she knew what was happening, the boy pulled her in for a gigantic hug with such an excited force that her glasses nearly flew off her nose. She hugged back with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

**3**

_Is there a way I can back out of this without hurting his feelings? _Brittany wondered while in Spanish class, absently reading over the pages Mr. Schue had assigned the class (though she wasn't paying attention at all). _Could we maybe just date a few days? Could I back out after a week or so? Is it still too soon? Do I need to wait two weeks before it would be acceptable to breakup?_

"Pierce! ¿Hola, es cualquier persona casero?" A sharp voice snapped at her in a whisper.

"Huh?" Brittany jumped in her seat to see Santana staring at her, one eyebrow raised.

"Someone's out of it," The Latina teased dryly.

She just stared at Santana pointedly, "What is it?" She mumbled.

The other girl's expression changed, and she looked over her shoulders quickly, as though to check no one was watching them; "Could I stay at your place again tonight?"

Brittany blinked, "I would have to ask my mom..." _And make sure Sam didn't want to hangout today..._

"Thanks, I didn't plan on asking you today- but Fabitch is still pissed at me."

"Don't worry about it," She dismissed, before realizing, "Oh! Wait; I have Comic Book Club today..."

The girl rolled her eyes, "I can wait. I'll just walk down the the Lima Bean or something."

"Are you sure? You could just go to Puck's or something- I don't want you to have to wait. Especially if we don't ever do anything in Comic Book Club."

"If you don't do anything why don't you just skip it?" Santana asked quizzically. Sighing, Brittany answered, "Because; I can't just skip out on my friends."

"If they're really good friends; they won't hold you skipping once against you." The other girl smiled devilishly; she was encouraging Brittany to skip for her in any way she could. And she was cracking.  
_I can't skip right when I've started dating Sam- he'll take it personally! But I can lie... I guess I could lie... Say I have to babysit Joel- it's happened before. Just don't mention Santana; I can do that... That way I could also get out of hanging out with Sam if he wants to..._

"Fine," She muttered, breaking her hypnotic gaze into Santana's deep amber eyes, "Fine- I'll skip; but just this once, ok?"

Smirking triumphantly, Santana said, "Understood."

**2.**

"Sorry Sam- can't. Not today." Brittany exaggerated her pout, "I have to babysit Joel." The two of them were walking to last block together, and she was explaining why she couldn't go to the bowling alley with him later tonight.

"I could help!" He piped up, before Brittany shot him down again;

"I _really_ wish you could- I swear. But my mom was already in a bad mood this morning and made it clear to me that_ absolutely no one else _can come over to the house today. I think she's hitting menopause, and I don't want to mess with that wrath."

The blonde boy frowned unhappily, "Alright," He sighed, "But what about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow- promise!"

Grinning again, Sam pulled her in and- kissed her.  
Shocked, Brittany stood there while her gave her a quick peck on the lips. It was the first kiss a boy had ever given her- and it was so unexpected. She wasn't ready for that. It was so fast, and she was so stunned that she barely even paid any attention to it; she wasn't entirely sure what it felt like.  
But she did know it was rougher than Santana's lips. He wasn't as gentle; though he was being very considerate of what he was doing, Brittany knew it.

It just wasn't the same.

"See you later!" Sam exclaimed, already hastily making his way to his own class (He had been courteous enough to walk Brittany to hers).

"B-"

"Well, well! Has Guppy Boy found a girlfriend?" Puck examined coolly, sauntering up behind Sam, "Beard- I'd say, we all know she digs chicks, man. Unless you've got a vagina in those jeans?" Laughing at his own cruelty, the other boy tossed a grape slushy at the back of Sam's head, and brushed on past as if nothing had happened.

**1  
**~~~~

All of last block, Brittany couldn't stop worrying about Sam; and then stressing about how she didn't really want to be dating Sam, mixed with the weight of purposely skipping Comic Book Club and then lying about it hovering over her head like an annoying wasp.  
When the bell rung again, signalling the end of class, she packed up her things quickly, and left for her locker, head down. The last thing she needed was a slushy right now.  
Swinging her backpack over her shoulder, Brittany left for the closest door. God, she could use a long, long nap. And some ice cream. And a bubble bath.  
The drizzle outside hadn't let up, so she flicked up her hood and walked against the rain; yes, Brittany was entirely aware that she told Santana she could crash at her place. But Santana knew where she lived, and Brittany didn't feel like waiting; hiding some more, stressing some more. Why couldn't things be simple? Why did people have to lie, because other people wouldn't be happy about the truth? Why can't everybody just be open-minded, and not bother with anyone else's buisness? Things would just be_ so _much easier if she could walk, her hand in Santana's- and have nobody care, or even turn their heads! If things could be like that... Santana wouldn't have to lie, and there would be no stress- and they'd probably be dating already, so she wouldn't have to date Sam!  
All Brittany wanted to do was scream at the top of her lungs; maybe it was just a bad day- maybe she's PMSing, but it felt like way too much. And once again, she couldn't help but link it to the fact that all this... internal chaos, started when Santana decided to walk into her life. Decided to trust her.  
And the most frustrating part; she didn't want to do anything to potentially lose her.

"Hey! Pierce!" Someone shouted from behind her, she kept walking.

"Pierce! What're you doing?" Santana huffed, stopping her jog into a walk as she fell into step beside her, hair damp from the rain, and an irrational goofy smile on her face. That made Brittany want to grin like an idiot back- and, it still continued to make her angrier at herself.

"You didn't wait for me?" The Latina inquired, her own voice gave away no anger; only curiosity.

"I feel a little sick," She mumbled back, "Headache. I just want to get home."

"Ahh. Is it your time of the month?" The girl teased, bumping her lightly with her shoulder.

"No," Brittany replied tightly, "Just a little stressed out, thank you very much."

"Has dating Trouty Mouth already tensed you up that much?"

"Don't call him that!" Brittany snapped, turning the corner onto her street, "And how did you know we were dating?"

Santana, who looked completely unfazed by her outburst went on non-chalantly, "I saw you two getting all cuddly at long break; I just assumed. And apparently, my Psychic Mexican Third Eye never lies." She tapped her forehead to emphasize.

Ignoring the other girls remark- mostly because she wasn't sure how to answer- Brittany fished out the key to the front door from the outdoor cabinet that held the garden supplies. After opening the door, Brittany opened it for Santana and tossed the key back into the cabinet.

"Will you need to borrow clothes?" She asked half-heartedly as she undid her shoelaces.

"Yes, ma'am. Where are your parents?"

"Working. Joel... I dunno, he's somewhere. Either at soccer practice or his friends house; but he's usually not here on Monday's."

Santana nodded, gazing around the house like it was the first time she's ever been here, "I need to talk to you about something,"

"Shoot," Brittany mumbled, starting up the stairs with her backpack.

"Well... in a while, once... Once I slowly start to slip away from... _them_, are you sure I could stay here? And Marie? Just until graduation."

"Well, I haven't talked to my mom about it," She tossed the backpack onto her bed, and rubbed her temples; willing for her pounding in her head to disappear, "But... I'm sure with enough careful wordplay and cautious phrasing my mom would crack."

Santana twisted her lips, sitting down on her bed.

"Look, I'm going to go grab a Tylenol, and then take a quick shower. You can look in my pyjama drawer for clothes."

"Got it."

Brittany made her way down to the kitchen; opening up the cupboard above the sink and grabbing out the Tylenol, and pouring herself a glass of water to wash it down.  
She didn't bother going back up to the bathroom attached to her room; she just used the downstairs one.  
It was hard not to focus on the problems at hand, no matter how hard she tried; it just consumed her full mindset. If it wasn't her guilt with Sam she was thinking about; it was skipping Comic Book Club. If it wasn't that; it was how much she just wished she could be with Santana. Or Santana's past.  
Before, she'd only have to worry about slushy attacks and her future. Now those were the least of her concerns.

After rinsing out her conditioner, she turned off the shower and dried herself in a towel. Wrapping it around herself, Brittany made her way back upstairs, to find Santana sprawled out across her bed, consumed by something on her phone.

"Feeling better?" The girl asked without glancing at her.

"A little." _Not really._

"Still stressing about something mostly irrelevant?"

"Yes." Brittany closed the bathroom door and got changed, afterwards she joined Santana on the bed; grabbing her own phone. She had a text from Artie;

_**Where r u?**_

It took a lot not to groan; _why can't they just leave me alone?  
_  
_**Had to babysit. **_

"And the stress continues," Santana observed lightly, "What is it? The nerd herd badgering you about where you are?"

"_Yes_!" A lump formed in her throat; she wasn't sure if it was from anger, or having someone ask what was wrong- and know exactly what was wrong, "That Tylenol didn't work at all! And it was extra strength!"

She glanced over at Santana, who was looking right back- and very calmly.

"You just want everything to stop, don't you?" She said softly, tossing her phone onto the sheets. Tears stinging behind her eyes, Brittany nodded.

"You just- there's just too much, isn't there? And people won't let you be long enough for you to figure it out, right?" Santana went on, "That's why I push people away. I hate to sound cliche, here; but we're more alike than you probably think we are. At least right now, in this moment."

Brittany wiped away a stray tear she felt rolling down her cheek; why is she crying? She shouldn't be crying!

"Look," The girl sat up, and pulled Brittany up with her, holding her hand tight, "I'm not saying build a wall. Please, don't be like me; I did all the wrong things to deal with... my _pain_- I guess that's what to call it. I drink, am a bitch to people, I... I cut. And none of that's right. But it's..." Santana searched for the right word, "It's _habitual_ by now. But it'll go away. Everything. Eventually it will- you can't get a rainbow without rain, right? Things will get better. Just don't do what I did."

"But I just don't know how to fix things without hurting people's feelings..." She murmurred, wiping away another tear.

"People always get hurt, Britt. No matter what you do, ok? Don't worry about it. As long as you make it right- it doesn't matter who you hurt, because sometimes you need to be selfish and do things for _you_."

"Yeah, but-"

"Don't but!" Santana shook her shoulders roughly, her voice rising, "You're not _listening_ to me!"

Brittany bit her lip; she was listening, she really was; but she didn't like hurting people. She wasn't like Santana, who was ok with it. Who knew that it was for the better; knew how to be selfish- for the best.

"Ok," Santana sighed again, obviously trying to control her short-temper, "You're stressed out? Have a headache?"

"Yeah?" Brittany answered, wiping away a third frustrated tear- while also wondering Santana's sudden angle.

"Do you know what works better than Tylenol for stress- and headaches?" Santana whispered, leaning in. She furrowed her brow; _what does she mean? A nap? If I could nap for the next 28 years I'd be really happ-  
_  
"No." She stated sharply, realizing what Santana was suggesting.

The Latina nodded, resting one hand very gently on Brittany's shoulder, the other on her abdomen, and shifting positions so she was straddling her, "Yes."

"Santana, no- I'm serious. I'm dating Sam." _I really want to, though. But I can't be a cheater- I wouldn't be able to live with myself._

"For six hours." The other girl answered flatly, "Don't think of it as sex;" The darker haired girl pulled out her ponytail, shaking her locks free, "Think of it as stress management."

"I can't have meaningless sex, Santana. Especially not with you; because if we were to ever have sex, I'd want it to mean something. A lot."

"I just said; it's not sex. It's stress management. You don't have to put anything of yours into me. I'll just make you feel better," The Latina guided her down lightly, "I won't even kiss you- if that's what you want."

"You don't get it!" Brittany felt another tear escape her eye, "I_ want _to be able to kiss you- I want to be able to... to do all these_ things _with you, but I can't! It will just make things worse! It'll make me a cheater, and I- I can't do that!"

"Just don't think about it," The girl whispered, her long eyelashes fluttering against Brittany's cheek.

"I can't not think about it."

"Of course you can; don't think, _feel_."

She stared up at Santana, who was looking right back at her; into her. She was being sincere, she wasn't trying to make things worse- she was trying _so_ hard to make things better.

"Trust me," The girl said softly, taking off Brittany's glasses, she reached over and placed them on her nighttable, "Don't you trust me?"

Her heart was threatening to burst out of her ribs, and her breath was escaping her lips in small, shallow bursts-

"Kiss me." Brittany told her as she wrapped her arms around Santana's neck- and she decided to feel.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N Hey guys, so so sorry for how long it took to update! Hope you didn't give up on me :s  
****Forewarning that I'm the shits at writing sex scenes, so I also apologize if it's not satisfactory haha but, I tried, and I hope you enjoy the chapter the same! **

**0**.

The lack of hesitation Santana had for Brittany's request was slightly frightening. Not _frightening_ frightening, but by this she meant it was alarming that Santana was so ready, how much it showed that she wanted to. She was like a string held taut with anticipation,and as soon as she said the words; she jumped to action.  
Brittany also kind of frightened herself with this; she was against cheating. _So_, against cheating. And she was doing it; right now, and it felt great.

Santana's mouth moved over her own so naturally, the movements her body made with it; were fluent. She knew what she was doing; and Brittany had no idea.

"Stop thinking so much," Santana whispered against her mouth, breath just ghosting her lips, "You know what to do. Just feel. Let go. Thinking is what got you here, after all."

"But I can't stop thinking." She admitted, looking up into those now familiar dark eyes.

"The only thing you need to know, is to not be afraid to actually touch me, Pierce. I'm not toxic." Santana, smirking, gently lifted Brittany's hand- and guided it to her breast, "See? Not so hard."

"OhmiGod," Brittany whispered; once again, the situation felt so unreal. But this time it was different; she was certain that this would be the time its really happening.

"Come on, this isn't the first time," Santana leaned down again, as she spoke, her lips just brushing the corner of the mouth, "Just feel me; I'm right here."

_Just do it._

A voice in the back of her mind compelled her, and without much persuasion, she ran her hands down the front of Santana's shirt, slipping her hands underneath against warm skin. On top of her, the other girl took a sharp breath; Brittany felt her nails dig into her shoulders, and she let out her own huff.

_Don't think. Feel. _

Without another moment to reconsider, she inhaled deeply, and pulled the shirt over Santana's head.  
The girl allowed the top to come off without any protest; in fact, she looked a little stunned that the girl beneath her had just done such a bold move.  
Brittany still didn't pause; she just went on feeling before she could think too much and backout of it. She ran her hands over Santana's smooth skin; down the dip in her back, and around her waist; causing Santana to writhe and make small noises out of the back of her throat.  
The Latina kissed her hungrily, holding her tight- she began to mirror Brittany's movements herself onto the blonde's own skin. She arched into Santana; in this moment, she was completely Santana's. That's all she wanted. That's how she _felt_. And Santana was completely hers.

She lifted her arms for the other girl to tug her shirt off, before lunging back into their previous deeds; both there, in their bra's and jeans- their bodies flush up against each other. Thinking about it now with her body buzzing; she realized how criminally long it had taken for them to get to this point.  
_This is happening_.  
Running her hands along the Latina's torso, she brushed past any hesitance nudging at her from the corner of her mind, and cupped Santana's breasts as firmly as she dared. The girl sighed into her mouth, one hand coming up to the back of her neck; pushing Brittany closer, while her other hand prodded at the waist band of her jeans.  
She wanted them off.  
She wanted them off now.  
And she wanted Santana's off, too. But to do this she knew they'd have to break this beautiful contact their mouths were making.

"_Off_," She hissed breathlessly, and as soon as the word left her mouth, Santana was nodding frantically- already beginning to tear off her own jeans.  
Brittany rolled over a little, so her legs could dangle off the bed- making it easier to pull down her own pair.  
_Why do skinny jeans have to be so damn tight?_ She thought bitterly as she not-so-gracefully battled the dark bottoms down her hips. _These are so much easier to put on._

From there on out, however; it was a breeze removing her pants. It definitely left a feeling of vulnerablitity now, as she saw the bottoms pool around her ankles- the knowledge that only a thin layer of material covered her (admittedly) hot center.  
She wasn't given a chance to dwell on this very long, though- because apparently someone else was waiting anxiously for the bottoms to be off, too; Santana basically lunged at her, knocking her back down onto her sheets with a slight 'oomf'.  
_Someone's eager, _she planned to remark, but Brittany was caught off guard by the sight of Santana- on top of her- dark, mildly lacy bra- and eye catching, hot pink underwear with little black ornate lining.

Santana sucked playfully on her neck, while her fingers explored more sensitive areas like her lower oblique muscles- running her nails across them lightly. Strangled sounds of pleasure escaped her lips; her body begging for something more. Brittany had a sense that the other girl would have no problems with teasing her for a long while, so she decided she was the one who was going to speed this up a bit. Running her hands down the girl's smooth back, she led them astray to her ass; mustering all of her lust filled courage to squeeze it in hopes of a positive feedback. It was better than she expected, toned from countless Cheerios practices, she assumed. This brought on a startled sound somewhere between a moan and a sigh from the other girl; her hands dug into to Brittany's skin, instinctively, she arched her hips into Santana.

"Someone's eager," The girl commented, her voice a few octaves lower as she spookily repeated her own previous thoughts.  
Brittany just bit her lip; she didn't want to talk. The Latina hooked her fingers under her bra, tugging it; "Off," She whispered. Though her brain was silently trumpeting; reminding her of her insecurities and how vulnerable this was making her- she didn't protest. She was too horny to care.  
Instead of fumbling awkwardly behind her back for the clip, she twisted underneath the girl so her back was showing. A simple enough message; 'you do it', that Santana seemed to understand without any problems. The girl bent over her, fingers toying around the clip. All Brittany could focus on was the throb between her legs, the warmth between Santana's legs as she straddled her- nearly center to center, and the girls tongue as she added it to the mixture; slowly dragging it up the back of her neck.  
Of their own accord, her hips rocked upwards lightly- craving some sort of attention. She wasn't even looking at Santana, but knew the girl was smirking, obviously as she let out a breathy hum; finally unhooking her bra. Swallowing thickly, she further allowed the girl to gently guide the straps from her shoulders as she rolled over again.  
She looked up at Santana; who was staring right back at her; not even watching as she removed the straps; just blue orbs staring into brown. And God, did she ever look beautiful; her dark hair framed her face, spilling over her shoulders- lips parted slightly, and her cheeks flushed the smallest amount. It was a peculiar moment of depth before Santana leaned down, pressing her lips against Brittany's in a slower, deeper kiss. She ran her hands along the back of the other girl's bra; once she processed the fact that her upper body was now completely bare. She let out a small moan as the Latina tugged at her bottom lip- hands palming either of her bust.  
As swiftly as she could; Brittany unhooked the other girl's bra, where the straps nearly fell all the way down her arms.  
Grunting, Santana briefly lifted up either of her hands from their respective spot long enough for her to pull the dark holdings off- eventually, flinging the article of clothing onto the floor- and ogling what was revealed. Those too, were exactly how she imagined.

Tentatively, she raised a hand and fixed it there; the feeling of Santanas bare breasts was a level of incredible forigness. Obviously, she'd cupped the girls over the bra before, and messed with her own out of innocent curiosity; but this was remarkable.  
And of course, this just turned her on even more. She was utterly entranced by them, exploring them all around, while Santana did the same to her- also nibbling and sucking on her neck. It was beautiful. It was miraculous. It was a literal fantasy blooming to life, it was-  
"Fuck," she groaned- it felt good. The Latina's knee rode up, pressing firmly against her aching center- still covered by an irritating barrier of thin underwear. She craved attention, and this barrier was preventing her from getting it; and she knew she was so close to the attention she needed!

"Shit, Britt," Santana giggled into her ear, "You must really want some Lopez, huh?"  
Not entirely sure how to respond- she just nodded, "Then lets waste no more time." While the other girl somewhat repositioned herself, she just bit her lip and focused on restraining herself from rocking into Santana's knee like a dog in heat. _How is it she's so collected? Doesn't she-  
_Brittany's underwear were pulled down without any warning- and before she could even react aside from the initial stun, the other girl was kissing her again; and hard. Santana's lip pulling her own, sucking on her tongue lightly; an adventurous, lustful kind of kiss. And she was more than willuing to comply with it; even if Santana's one hand was placed on her inner thigh, inching further and further up.  
"We're going to do this," She whispered against Brittany's mouth- she had begun nodding before the other girl even finished what she was stating. "Yeah." Santana was nodding, too; Brittany thought she saw her tense suddenly, but she didn't pay too much attention. Her body was alive, and craving the soft feeling of Santana against her.  
One hand rode up and outlined the shape of her breast before squeezing it; and Brittany rolled her eyes back and stared at the ceiling, trying to focus on breathing and feeling before she somehow managed to get cold feet and say no.  
She could feel Santana's hair brushing against her collarbone as she was bent over her; she was still playing around on her chest, but the fingers on her opposite hand were ever so slowly- almost achingly slowly- making their way up. Almost there.  
_Breathe. Feel. _  
An abrupt lost feeling was beginning to trickle into her; so she reached out and hooked a hand around the back of the girl's neck, entwining her fingers in the dark hair at the base of her neck. She heard Santana give out a forceful exhale, like she was holding her breath, and-  
Colors.  
It took her a moment to register what had just happened, but it was happening; intense waves of pleasure were hitting at her. It surprised her at first, and she gasped; eyes snapping open- feeling.

Brittany's body began to work out a rhythm with Santana's hand; rocking her hips into her every time she went upwards.

"_Shit_," She groaned, pulling her hand through her hair, and holding onto it. They were going slow, it didn't matter- because she felt everything. Her body was electric, everywhere the other girl touched felt electric- Brittany was somewhat able to make out Santana's hitched breaths, and felt her speed up the tiniest bit. She matched the pace.  
_Fuck, fuck, fuck! _  
She shuffled closer to Brittany face awkwardly, disturbing their cadence, however obviously trying her hardest not to. "I'm going to try something, ok?" Santana told her; Brittany just nodded- as long as she didn't leave.  
With mild curiosity she watched her move back down her body while she tried her hardest not to completely pant unattractively. Brittany soon had a vague understanding of what the other girl was getting at, and it made her heart smash into her ribcage with even more force. Santana's clammy palms grabbed onto the insides of her legs lightly; leaving an aching vacancy between her legs- but Brittany realized something; Santana was nervous, just like she was. She couldn't help but feel smug- though she tried to hide her smile about it, but she couldn't help but want to bask in the glory of the moment.  
Perhaps had she not been inwardly gloating, she wouldn't have been so surprised when Santana's tongue flicked out against her swollen clit, Brittany gasped; her lungs filling with air of suprise and pleasure. Her hands naturally found the back of Santana's head, holding her there, and groaning as the girl began to build up speed as her courage rose.

"Oh my God, Santana," She hissed quickly through clenched teeth; the sensations were a thing of beauty. Though, to be perfectly honest, she missed her hands working at her, but Santana's tongue felt like it was performing acrobats as she got a feel for it. She worked her there for at least three minutes; Brittany's hips continued to ride into her best friend at their own accord, but soon enough she was aching, "San," She tried to get the girls attention.

"_San_," A little more harshly this time, the girl stopped what she was doing and their eyes met, "That feels really good but I need more," She groaned, and Santana responded with a smirk, before lowering her head and continuing to lap at Brittany's clit. She threw an arm over eyes, shutting them tightly; she didn't want to beg more than she really had to, because she realized what the other girl was doing; and it was a soft torture.  
She felt Santana's tongue drag up her length, and she gasped as it shallowly but firmly pressed into her.  
"_Please_!" Brittany found herself whining. So much for no begging. Santana took notice, making a gentle noise from the back of her throat; like faux simpering, and began teasing around once again, shallowly dipping her fingers in before pulling out again.

"Santana, I swear to God-" She started, frustration building in her. However, before she could finish her sentence, Santana deftly slid her index finger in, and pumping slowly. Gasping, they began to find rhythm again. Santana scooted up her body, so her arm was pinned between them, but she still pumped. She kissed Brittany so hungrily, she felt as though she may disappear inside the other girl as she slid in a second finger. She moaned into her mouth, shocked to feel a tightening sensation in the pit of her gut. She knew her orgasm was coming, it was the only sensible explanation. It seemed much too soon for her; they had only just started.

"San," She wanted them to slow down. This couldn't be it.

"Shhh," The girl replied, continuing to kiss her deeply while her entire body moved with her actions. Feeling the knot tighten, she whispered again, "But I'm gonna-"  
Santana shushed her again, but stopped her movements- causing Brittany's knot to bunch up in agony, it needed tending to. Before she could ask what was happening; the girl managed to flip her over, so Brittany was straddling her. She looked down at Santana; her face flushed, and hair sprawled around her- still buried deep inside but no longer moving her hand.

"Fine," The girl said, smirking, "Then you lead." That was stun. She didn't know how to... lead. Her mouth fell open, and she felt like asking how exactly she was supposed to stop, when Santana went on, "Here, I'll start a little."

The girl slowly began moving her hips off the bed, upwards, and Brittany slowly began working down on her hand. Moaning, they began to work faster; the knot seemed to be twisting tighter, and tighter. She felt it coming; and though it still felt too soon, she leaned down, deeply pressing her lips against Santana, who's hand rose up and tangled in the back of her hair once more, keeping their lips together. She took a moment again to dwell in the glory of the moment; she got Santana, the best looking girl in the school; her hips, hands, lips and Brittany was going to have her first orgasm at her fingertips. She thought that without shame.  
Wanting the painfully delicious knot to be gone, she tried to bring her hips down harder on Santana's hand. Panting uncontrolled breaths as she tried to work and kiss at the same time; she only vaguely felt Santana's fingers curl inside of her- hitting a spot she hadn't before.

"Ohh, _shit, Santana_!" Waves crashed down on her; the knot came undone as her muscles squeezed around Santana and it felt like a great deal of pressure being released. The clarity was dazzling, while at the same time all she could see was white, like her eyes had exploded and everything about it was gorgeous. It was like all her other senses were just surreal; she could hardly hear herself practically scream out, and Santana moan, obviously satisfied with seeing Brittany atop of her reach her climax. She could barely taste Santana reach up and kiss her again, her tongue parting her lips, and in that moment Brittany could positively describe the definition of perfection. It was the way she realized she felt about Santana, the moment she was certain, she may just be in love.

As the stars began to fade, she felt herself beginning to fall backward again into the pillows and duvets. Truthfully, she did not expect to orgasm- since she had read that it has very uncommon for women to the first couple of times they had sex. Lucky her, she supposed.  
Her body felt incredibly weak- but in a good way. In the same kind of way she used to experience if she danced too long, like she could just topple down into some kind of puddle.  
She also found it quite hypnotic- as she caught her breath; the way that her own chest as well as the girl on below hers seem to move a near perfect rhythm. In. Out. In. Out.  
Upon further thought, Brittany figured it was quite possibly for two different reasons; she was catching her own breath, while Santana was probably trying to regain herself (Seeming, as the deal went, the dark haired girl would get nothing out of the actions. The girl proposed the details herself, to convienently add to the fact that Brittany felt nowhere mentally- emotionally- or physically prepared for such intimate commisions with her. Not to say she didn't really want to- because she did, especially after the unbelievable things she'd just done to Brittany. She just felt in her own current standings that she wasn't prepared.)  
Letting out a brief and light sigh, Brittany twirled the girls dark locks between her fingers. She wanted to shower again; her body felt sweaty, and sticky, and in all round need for another rinse- she'd have to after they just lay here for a while. Aside from the small amount of guilt gnawing at her that Santana would get nothing in return for now. And the larger amount of guilt screaming and pounding in the corner of her mind about some other boy- one whom she didn't really want to think about at the moment.

"Sorry that you aren't going to really get anything." She murmurred quickly, chewing her bottom lip while she reconsidered the acts she could take. She still didn't feel ready.

"Don't worry about it," The other girl mumbled into her shoulder, "I can take care of myself."

This comment sent a blush up to Brittany's cheeks- she felt the heat burning there. She was very much aware of what Santana was implying.

"I'll uh," Brittany started, unsure exactly what to say. She also knew you weren't supposed to walk out too soon after the sex- but they had laid together there for a few minutes, right? And as long as Santana didn't take off, as far as she knew the girl would be spending the night. And it's not like she'd be going anywhere while Santana was here, "Do you want me to leave you to it? Uhh... I kind of want to stand in the shower for a bit anyways, I feel all sweaty..."

The girl rolled from under her with a small grunt that sounded somewhat like a 'sure'. Brittany was all too aware of how stiff and awkward the two of them were becoming as the time past. Her own first real time, and, again, as far as she knew this was Santana's first time with another girl.  
Plus, it was a bit of an effort not to ogle the girls bare breasts again.  
Hastily she parted to the bathroom, closing the door behind her, she leaned against it for a moment; allowing herself a couple more deep breaths- the initial hype was wearing thin, however, recalling the experience was thrilling. As usual, her thoughts were beginning to fire back up at light speed; _it was supposed to be a stress relief. _She thought somewhat begrudgingly as little bursts of thought nipped at her conscience.  
She did suppose that though there were double the thoughts, she felt much more calm now- instead of overwhelmed with her situation as she did previous.  
Testing the shower water with her hand to see if it was warm enough, Brittany hopped in. She'd let herself think for now.  
And she wondered how long she stood in there; just letting the water wash over her... she also felt it was safe to say that the pattern of her brainwork was eligible enough to compare it to the metaphor of 'having a devil and an angel on your shoulder'.  
_  
You shouldn't have done this. You just cheated on your new boyfriend, on the first day of your relationship! And it was your first real experience, too! Your partner is supposed to do that!_

_It wasn't really sex, right? You didn't do anything to her. Like Santana said; it was stress relief. It helped- she was helping you. It didn't really mean anything._

You let your best friend fuck you. Could you imagine if Sam found out about this? God, he'd be so devastated!

It won't happen again. Sure, it was wrong, but it doesn't need to happen again. I'll keep it a secret. No one will know, except me and Santana- Sam will never find out.

But I want it to happen again. I want to do the things to her that she'd done to me, and I want her to do more of those things to me. Over and over and over again.

But they were both screaming- the bad thoughts were sticking her in the gut, twisting their way through her mind and expanding like some kind of toxic cloud. While her good thoughts desperately tried to console her, and let her know that it was a mistake; and mistakes happen to everyone. But then the bad and the good mashed up and it was hard to distinguish them.  
Sam, she's dating Sam.  
Sure, she just ha- _Santana_, just had sex with her, but she made sure it didn't mean anything.  
Because Sam was her boyfriend, after all.  
But she knew how she wanted to have sex with Santana- and she secretly loved and thrived in the fact that what just happened was actually real.

It was all very confusing. On the bright side, she could deal with all these emotions and thoughts right now; sex really was great.

After she decided she had stood in the warm water long enough, Brittany stepped out and towelled herself off. In her bedroom, Santana was under the covers, with her arms out as she looked through her phone. Whether the girl was clothed or not was a mystery.  
Brittany felt herself swallow thickly; the room smelled like sex. A musty, heavy, sweaty, peculiar odor that must have been what sex smelled like. Awkwardly, she walked around the bed and the cracked the window; judging by the discarded clothes on the floor- the girl was naked under the blankets.

"Feeling any better?" Santana asked lazily, thankfully breaking the several levels of silence that had begun to hang in the room.

"Yeah."_ Ish, _she stopped herself from adding.

"Good. Hey, could I hop in the shower, too? I'm feeling a little sweaty myself." The girl smirked, and suddenly Brittany hoped that Santana wouldn't hold this affair against her, because it seemed like a very Santana thing to do.  
Pushing that feeling aside for now, she answered, "Sure. You might want to wait a few minutes though, just for the hot water."  
The Latina nodded, resting her head back on Brittany's pillows. She knew the two of them would need to have a serious conversation tonight, about many things.  
And she was also compelled to talk to Kurt. She could use some advice from the guy right about now- she knew he might be a little upset with her for this whole thing, but he would never judge her.

At six o'clock Brittany's parents returned home from their respective employments; while Santana showered earlier, she cleaned her room and immediately threw her sheets and blankets into the wash, also spraying her entire upper floor with loads of air freshener, because she wasn't taking any chances.  
Mom was surprised to find the Latina at her home (once again), but she didn't question it since Brittany's past conversation about 'some kind of family issues'. For once she was happy about the older woman's maternal instincts, and eventual sympathy for her friend. She seemed to push past the past gossip of one Santana Lopez (Though most of it was probably true.)  
She even managed to drop a few hints about Santana's possible reinstatement here until graduation, along with her sister, while she and her mom did the dishes after supper. It was the perfect timing, after all.  
As close as perfect timing could get, at least.

"Is she moving in or something?" Her mother joked, though Brittany was very aware that there was another tone underlying it, "She's been here a lot lately."

"Yeah, well," She mumbled, remembering that she'd suggested that the other girl went upstairs and started a movie or something.

"Not that I mind!" The older blonde quickly interjected. But it was a bit of a lie, she could tell.

"Well, she has family problems, mom. I told you that."

Her mom made a slight grunting noise, which is when she jumped at the chance to start hinting; "But would it be so bad if she stayed here till graduation? Theoretically, I'm saying..."

The woman quirked an eyebrow, "Well, theoretically; she can't just jump out of her family and move in with us. I am pretty sure that's illegal."

_I don't think it actually is._

"Yeah, but..." Brittany wondered what she could say to her mother to seriously convince her- while still not giving away too much. "What if... What if there was really bad stuff going on at her home?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know... bad stuff? You'd want her out of there, right? If bad stuff was happening?"

"Why are you asking me this?"

"I don't know!" Brittany realized how defensive she sounded, and backed up, "I was only saying... Just cause I was curious... I dunno."

Maybe her mom would get what she was implying? She hoped she would. Because bringing it up felt extremely uncomfortable- solely since she was slightly afraid of being scolded by her mother for something or another. If this conversation connected in Mrs. Pierce's mind, then maybe the woman would find some empathy in her heart and offer Santana and her sister to move in.  
It'd sure make things a lot easier. But something told her it would be a little more difficult than that.  
Once the dishes were clean she went back upstairs to her bedroom, to find Santana cross-legged on the floor, wrapped in a blanket which was taken from the spare bedroom.

"What'd you pick?" Brittany tried to ask calmly, but she was still a little shaken by the experience they had earlier.

"500 Days of Summer. I heard it was good, but I've never seen it."

"Oh, yeah. That _is_ a good movie." She slowly sat down on the floor, cross-legged just like the other girl.

"Blanket?" Santana inquired, but before she even waited for a reply she was tossing some of the large blanket over Brittany's shoulders, so they were both semi-covered by it. This also made her nervous, for some reason.

"Thanks."

She found herself in another strange toil of emotion toward the other girl; both relieved that nothing seemed to have changed between the two of them, and upset that everything was the same.

"I need to say it..." Brittany murmured aloud, "Doesn't this change our... friendship?"

Santana looked over at her, and odd expression on her face, which Brittany couldn't quite place.  
"No, why?" The girl asked, raising an eyebrow.

She found herself letting out a small, dry laugh, "Because- uhm we just had sex about two and a half hours ago!"

The Latina shrugged, turning back to the television, "So? Sex is sex."

"For you, maybe! That was the first time I ever really had.. you know..."

Sighing, Santana reached forward and grabbed the remote from on top of the TV, pressing pause. She turned to Brittany and said lightly, "Look, that was the first time I've ever done it with someone with the same parts as me," Brittany twisted her lips, "It was experimental... for the both of us. I mean, it's not like we're dating or anything now- you're dating Trouty. It could be... a one time thing? Nothing has to change."

But that didn't really satisfy Brittany's curiosity, or feelings.  
_Could be a one time thing?  
Santana's talking like I'm afraid we won't be friends anymore... I'm more concerned about the opposite._

But Brittany just let out a small sigh and replied, "Ok."  
So they finished watching 500 Days of Summer. And after Joel made them go downstairs and play Mario Kart with him until his bedtime, where not long after, Brittany removed her blankets and sheets from the laundry and placed them back on her bed, telling Santana that she was going to bed for the night, too.

"It's barely nine o'clock?" The Latina responded, before smirking playfully, "What? Do you have a headache again?"

She lied and told her 'No!' (rather defensively), and just said she hadn't been sleeping well lately, and just wanted a rest. To which the girl shrugged, grabbed the next Dead Sight book from Brittany's bookshelf, bid her goodnight and left for the spare bedroom.

The morning was hurried, as she had slept in- and an evil entity had let her do it, while she was downstairs eating cereal! But eventually, when the half an hour mark hit before they had to leave, the girl woke her up by sending Joel (plus herself) into her bedroom and jumping on her bed.  
And hitting her in the face with pillows.

"Santana! Oh my God, what time is it?" Brittany asked frantically, searching for her glasses on her nightstand.

"Like, seven forty five."

"You let me sleep in!" She accused, tossing a pillow at the girl and nearly leaping from bed. She needed to get changed... she needed to do her hair... she needed to eat breakfast! Why didn't her alarm go off? Shit, she forgot to set it last night because she and Santana were watching that movie!

The other girl just laughed in return.

After throwing together a hasty outfit and practically inhaling a bowl of Fruit Loops, she tossled with her hair.  
Which decided that today of all days would be the perfect day to not cooperate.

Letting out a frustrated groan, Brittany tore her brush through her hair for the fifth time, glancing over her shoulder at the alarm clock; five minutes before she ought to leave.

"Britt, are we leaving or what?" The Latina came bounding into her room, throwing up a hand to exagerate her question.

"Soon! I just... hold on another minute, ok?" She answered, while once again trying to figure how to make her hair less crazy in the least amount of time.

"Your hair?"

"Yeah!"

"Ugh, come here," Santana tossed her bag onto the floor as she motioned Brittany over, "Dummy."

Almost making a witty comeback about the whole 'algebra' thing, she dragged her feet over to where the girl stood. "Sit on the bed," Santana gestured to the duvets, and Brittany sat.

"What're you doing?"

"Just, look that way-" Brittany craned her head to look out the window, "I'm putting your hair up."

"Cheerios get mad when it's in a ponytail."

"That's why I'm not putting it in a ponytail," The girl ran her fingers through Brittany's hair quickly, detangling any stray knots, "Messy bun- duh? Like seriously, Britt; you have troubles even thinking _in_ the box, this is a sure fix to your hair." Blushing quickly, she mumbled, "I could never really figure out messy buns... when I do put my hair into one, it just... it's too messy, like it doesn't even look nice."

"Well thank God I'm around..."

After that, the two of them rushed out of house; Brittany's bun felt odd atop of her head- bouncing around... she wasn't used to it. She wasn't complaining, though. Santana did put an end to her bad hair day in all of a minute and a half.  
The two of them didn't chat on the walk to school, it was only a nearly silenced 'see you later!' when they reached the parking lot and split ways. It was unusually loud today in the parking lot; there was yelling and tossing of footballs back in forth and cheering. Brittany didn't like it; it felt too hectic for her already stirred thoughts and mind.  
Crap, she felt another migraine coming on.

"Brittany!" Definitely a migraine. Turning around just before she reached the school doors, Sam jogged up to her and hooked his arm in hers.  
She was a little too tempted to snatch it away from him- but she didn't want to hurt his feelings... look at that big goofy grin on his face.

"Sam, hey!" Faked. Faked. Faked happiness.

The blonde boy leaned in to kiss her, but Brittany moved her head away before he could- he pulled back, hurt in his eyes. "Sorry," She sighed, "I'm just getting sick. Don't want to pass it around."

"Oh," Sam smiled again, "Okay, cool. I'm gonna walk you to your locker, 'k?"

_It's not like I really have a say right now, anyways_, "Sure!"

Opening up the door for her; Sam allowed her to enter the school first before attaching to her side again. Down the hall, Brittany caught a glimpse of Santana with some other Cheerios- and she was looking right back at her. In advance to turning the corner; she could have sworn she saw the other girl send her a wink while she wore that painfully adorable smug smirk on her face.


End file.
